Fukai Negai
by boreum dal
Summary: When timid Sakura Kinomoto tries to prove herself by betting to ask out the popular Syaoran Li, he only agrees because he's taken on a bet as well. Ill-suited for each other, they drive each other mad; so there's no way they could fall in love, right?
1. Gambling

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hey everyone! This is my new story, Fukai Negai- which translates into 'Deep Wish.' (I'm not too entirely sure about the grammatical correctness of this title, though...anyone who's fluent in Japanese and would like to correct the title, please tell me!) Anyhow, I hope you enjoy! Please read and review!

**UPDATE AS OF NOVEMBER 8, 2007: I've gone and edited here and there in the first four chapters of this story, so if you're an old reader and you have time, please go back over these first few chapters:) It's nothing too big, but I've fixed and added a few things that you might enjoy reading. Thanks! **

**Summary: **Wanting to prove herself, timid Sakura Kinomoto accepts a dare to ask Syaoran Li, the typical (and not so typical) most popular boy in school, on three dates within the month. When Syaoran agrees to go out with her, he's only in on it because of a bet as well. Seemingly ill-suited for each other, they drive one another mad, but love often appears in the most uncanny situations.

**Disclaimer:** Somehow, I always forget to put up disclaimers for each chapter, so this one will stand for the whole story. I don't own CCS, or any of its characters, and it is owned by CLAMP. (I will, however, be making up some characters!) If I use any song lyrics to accompany a chapter, I don't own the song, either.

**Chapter 1:** Gambling

_He walked with his head down. _

_He could feel the students around him staring, and judging by their hushed whispers, they'd heard what happened. But he didn't care anymore. It didn't matter. Everything was over. He walked faster, wanting to get away from the prying, hungry eyes, the recapping of his own life's events told through the loud gossip humming around him..._

_And in that instant, he looked up, saw her standing in front of him, and immediately walked the other way, well aware that the crowded hallway had grown hushed. He tried not to think about the hurt look in her bright green eyes. What did she have to feel hurt about, anyway? _

"_Syaoran, just hear me out," he heard her beg from behind him. _

_He kept walking, his jaw hardening and his fists clenched. He told himself to ignore her, despite her continuous pleas. It worked—he was angry enough to the point that all of her words seemed to just go through one ear and fly out the other. _

_And then, suddenly, her tone changed. He stopped walking, and he really heard her this time. _

_Softly and sadly, she spoke— "Syaoran, just...please." Her voice broke at the last word. _

_He couldn't take it. He turned around slowly, speaking every word with vehemence. "You did all of that just to impress those snobs?" _

_He could see that she was about to say something, but he kept talking before she could interrupt him. "You...you toyed with me, and you lied to me, just to _fit in_?" He could hear his own words getting steadily louder and angrier. _

_She shook her head vigorously, tears streaming down her face. "No! It's not like that! It's not—"_

"_Get over it, Kinomoto."_

_Both turned around at the same time to see who had spoken, and he noticed the look of mingled dread and disgust on her face. It was them._

* * *

Sakura Kinomoto met face-to-face with the floor, her books flying out of her arms. Angrily, she looked up at a student standing behind her, but he shrugged with an honest look on his face. People walking by, of course, either had to stare, point, or laugh, or just do a combination of the three. Ignoring the people around her, Sakura looked behind her to see what she'd tripped over. Usually, someone tripped her in the hallways; not this time. She blushed. She'd tripped over her own shoelace.

"Sorry," she said to the person she'd glared at. Picking up her scattered books, Sakura walked down the hall to her classroom, stopped halfway when she realized her shoelace was still untied, set her books down, tied her shoelace, picked her books up again, heard the bell ring, and groaned. That was the second class she'd be late to that day._ Two detentions. Joy._

Just then, a group of popular girls, consisting of the cheerleading captain, Chiharu; track team star, Meiling; the self-proclaimed queen of the school, Mai; and their tag-along homework-doer, Naoko; who were whispering something quietly and giggling, walked right in front of Sakura and stopped. Of course, _they_ could be late to class. The teachers at this school were so biased that these girls literally got star-quality treatment.

Sakura had always had ambiguous feelings about this group of girls; while they were unnecessarily mean and nasty and she loathed them for it, she also had to admire their confidence—they were _gutsy_, something she was entirely not. Like most people in the school, she felt an unbearable need to impress them, something she could not resist, but also something she'd never accomplished.

And then, there was the fear.

These were the same girls Sakura had grown up with; and while they had all been friends back in elementary school, things had inevitably changed by the time they reached high school. Certain girls had become more popular and some had simply fallen into the backdrop; it was a way of life. Sakura was one of the girls who had fallen into the backdrop. In fact, she was probably the best at blending in with the wallpaper. Few people recognized her once she hit high school, and things hadn't changed for the past three years she'd been here. Chiharu, Mai, Meiling, and Naoko had gone the opposite way—they'd become instant celebrities with their looks and charm. In a typical situation, the popular girls would have left her alone—girls like Sakura weren't worth their time.

But it wasn't like that for Sakura.

Yes, they had been friends in elementary school, but their feelings for her had soured as instantly as they had become famous. It was odd; she never knew what she'd done to them, but for some reason, they seemed to want to stomp all over her every chance they got, so they had bullied her ever since her first day in high school, a day she did not like to recall too often. And it wasn't even the outright bullying that people in TV, movies, and books described—no, it was something a bit more different, a bit more subtle, but also more dangerous, than that. It had hurt her feelings initially; naïve (or perhaps more reasonable) as she was, she'd thought that they would still want to be acquaintances, if not friends, when they hit high school.

But it was something she'd just come to deal with; she wasn't inherently one to fight back. So she straightened up and waved awkwardly. "Hi."

Mai laughed. "Hey, Kinomoto."

Sakura lowered her eyes to the ground, waiting for them to say something mean and move on, but all she heard for the next two seconds was...

Complete silence. She looked up, puzzled. Why were they just standing there, grinning like idiots at her? "Er...did you...need anything?"

Meiling spoke up. "Well, we were just wondering if nerds like you had any guts." The girls tittered.

Sakura sighed and began to shuffle towards her class, thinking it was over. That was a surprisingly soft insult, though—they usually said meaner things than that. But Meiling stopped her, standing in her way, and grinned again.

Sakura stopped and shifted her books from one arm to the other. "Look, you guys, I really don't have time—"

Chiharu interrupted her, and Sakura could tell that she was trying to keep a straight face. "But, seriously, Sakura. We wanted to do a little...experiment with you." It sounded sadistic, the way she was talking about it; the other girls grinned, reminiscent of the hyenas in _The Lion King_.

"What...what kind of experiment?" Sakura raised an eyebrow, wondering what they were getting at. _This is such an odd confrontation_, she thought.

"We wanted to propose a bet with you, to see if you have the nerves to do it." Chiharu shook her red bangs out of her face and gave Sakura a dazzling—and, Sakura couldn't help but think, deceitful—smile.

Sakura shook her head and immediately walked away. It was not a good idea to get involved with these girls. They were like a high school mafia. And judging by the way they were looking at her—and her past history with them—they would make her do something awful.

"Fine then," she heard Mai say from behind her. "Meiling, I win—you owe me twenty bucks."

"Not _fair_, Mai! You knew she would say no..."

The girls laughed and walked away, their voices fading as they walked farther away from her.

She looked up at the ceiling exasperatedly. A mixture of curiosity, atypical daring, and that desire to impress them were bottling up inside of her, getting ready to explode...

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, calling them back loudly. "What did you just say? Were you betting on the bet that you just offered me?" _I wonder if they'll lose all their money gambling when they grow up,_ she thought, and in spite of herself, she felt a smile creep into the corners of her lips.

Mai turned around to face Sakura. "Isn't that what it looks like?"

All funny thoughts forgotten, she turned red. So they were betting on her cowardice. They'd known that she'd say no, and they'd just done this whole thing for laughs. And for once, she felt anger. Not fear, but just anger. That admiration was still there, though. She wanted to prove to them—and she didn't know why—but she wanted to prove them that she was not a chicken. She wanted to prove them wrong. It was a bad idea, but... "Well, I'll do it, whatever it is."

Mai raised a carefully arched eyebrow, but she grinned. "All right. What you have to do is go out with Syaoran Li. Not on just one date, but on three. And you can't tell him that you're going to ask him out on three dates—you have to ask him to each one individually."

Sakura opened her mouth to protest. Syaoran Li was the most popular boy in school, and she'd just make a fool out of herself by asking him. He'd laugh in her face! It was impossible. It was utterly impossible.

Mai continued. "You have to have gone out with him three times by a month from now."

Sakura gulped. "What if I lose?"

"Well, if you lose," Mai said slowly, as though she were talking to a small child, the other girls laughing behind her, "then that means he'll have said no to you. The news'll get around—believe me, because if it doesn't, we'll do something about it—and that will pretty much be punishment enough in itself. But if that's not enough for you, then we'll just spread some more rumors, just to be on the safe side." Mai flashed her a smile and walked away, her entourage following behind.

Sakura watched them retreat and sighed. _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

Sakura sidled into the classroom, trying to go unnoticed. Of course, it didn't work.

"Kinomoto, where have you been? Class started fifteen minutes ago! It's just not like you to be late like you've been lately," the teacher scolded.

Sakura lowered her eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry, I just had a little—er, conflict in the hallway—"

"Detention after school." The teacher said.

She blushed. "I already have a detention."

The teacher went back to the board. "I guess that makes two hours, then."

Sakura sighed and walked to her seat, ignoring the giggles of the students around her. Why her detentions were so funny to them, she would never understand.

Opening her textbook to the right page, she tuned her ears out from the teacher's droning on about whatever and stared grimly at Syaoran, who was sitting a row away from her. She'd heard things about him—and not just the typical things, like how good-looking he'd always been or how he was so rich or how he'd never had a girlfriend or even _gone out _with another girl, but other things, like how he'd rejected practically every girl who'd asked him out, and with blunt and brutal honesty.

_Well, this is definitely something to look forward to._

* * *

"Syaoran, just the man I wanted to see!" A black-haired boy with a never-ceasing cheerful expression ran up to another boy with unruly chestnut hair, bangs that were just as messy, and amber eyes responsible for captivating the hearts of practically every girl who laid eyes on them.

Syaoran kept walking. "What do you want, Yamazaki?"

Takashi Yamazaki grinned. In addition to his naturally cheerful demeanor, he was one of the few people who'd truly known Syaoran for a long time, so the bad attitude was nothing new. He had a slight bounce in his walk as the two made their way across the quad. "I wanted to know if you had any plans after school."

Syaoran shrugged. "I have two hours of martial arts practice."

"Not the usual seven?" Yamazaki's grin grew wider. The wisecrack earned him nothing but a slap on the back of the head from Syaoran himself.

"It's not my fault that I work harder than you and Eriol combined," Syaoran responded arrogantly.

Yamazaki snorted. "Hey, Eriol studies martial arts, too. Don't think you're all high and mighty—"

"Well, what do _you_ do?"

Yamazaki laughed. "You know. I build Gundam models."

Syaoran let out a chuckle. Yamazaki was extremely different from anyone else he hung out with—foolish, a jokester, and a nerd about all things anime and video games to the extreme—but there was just this casual air about him that Syaoran liked a lot. He was one of the only two people in the world who could see past Syaoran's cool façade; Eriol Hiiragizawa, who was out sick that day, was the other person.

Yamazaki was moving his hands around wildly as he talked, a typical habit that he'd had since he was a child—a result of his enthusiasm over everything under the sun. "Anyway, I was thinking we could go to the skating rink tonight. The lake's finally frozen over, and—"

Syaoran cut him off. "The skating rink? What would you want to do there?"

"Hm, I don't know...skate?"

Syaoran threw Yamazaki a suspicious look.

Yamazaki looked back innocently—a little too innocently—for a moment, and then he broke down, still grinning. "Come on, Syaoran! Sixteen and you've never even gone on a date! People are starting to talk about you, you know. Honestly, I don't know how you're even the most popular guy in school...anyhow, practically all the girls from school are going to be there for the opening. Mai is going to be there! Guys will be _lining up_ for her. You might as well get in there with them, you probably have the best chance of her saying yes."

Syaoran shrugged. "I guess I'll go."

"All right! Meet me there at six, then. See you at lunch!" Yamazaki said excitedly, and he ran to his next class.

Syaoran shook his head. _Why am I friends with this guy again? _

* * *

Sakura paced around the sidewalk of her school nervously—it was in front of the building where Syaoran's next class was. She'd decided to ask him soon and get it over with.

This whole bet was not without effort; she'd gone to the restroom earlier to try to improve her appearance, but it had simply not worked. All of the makeup she'd put on herself had made her look like a clown, and she'd ended up sighing and wiping it all off.

She held her breath as she spotted Syaoran walking her way. Cautiously, Sakura stepped in front of him and opened her mouth to say something...

And was she surprised when nothing could come out.

Syaoran stood there for a second, staring at her with a confused expression on his face, and then he rolled his eyes and walked away.

Sakura finally found her voice and broke into a run, chasing after him. "Wait!"

Syaoran turned around, looking baffled and annoyed. "What do you want?"

She reminded herself to calm down a bit—she knew she was probably freaking him out with her antics. "My name is Sakura Kinomoto. You probably don't know me, but I thought I'd like to get to know you, so I..." Sakura's mind went blank again.

After waiting for Sakura to say something, Syaoran frowned. "Look, if you're going to say something to me, say it."

She let out a shaky breath. Why was she so nervous? "I was kind of wondering...if you'd...if you'd like to go out with me."

Syaoran sighed.

Sakura closed her eyes, half expecting for Syaoran to laugh loudly and walk away, leaving her alone in her humiliation and misery...but he didn't laugh. He just raised an eyebrow, looked her over, and left.

_Okay, that wasn't so bad..._

But somehow, Sakura felt worse than she would have felt if she'd been laughed at.

* * *

Syaoran walked to his next class, not feeling bad at all about what he'd just done. This was just a daily routine thing for him: some girl he didn't know would ask him out, he'd say no, end of story. But there _had_ been one thing that had been a little different about this one.

Right before he turned around and left, he'd seen her eyes—an uncannily bright emerald green—and they were full of something that he could not seem to put a finger on. Whatever it was, it was sad and slightly haunting, because now he couldn't get the image of those eyes out of his brain. He'd never seen anything like it before, and it set him slightly on edge.

But then, after another moment, he proceeded into the classroom without another thought about it.

* * *

_Why do I feel bad that he rejected me, anyway? I never even cared about him before, _Sakura thought to herself as she stood in line to get lunch. Her morning classes had gone by quickly, since she wasn't really paying attention; she'd been thinking about the incident and repeating her thoughts over and over all morning. It was true—although he was the most popular person in school, Sakura didn't fawn over him like other girls did. She didn't even care for him, because she'd figured he was just a big snob; and she was right. But the way he'd rejected her—she'd seen the coldness in his expression as he'd just looked her over as though she was some kind of freak. It had hurt her more than she'd thought it would.

There was a lone table at the end of the cafeteria, but she would have to walk down to it under the scrutiny of every student around her, and she was not up for it today. It was cold outside, the middle of December, but she felt like eating outside anyway, so she carried her tray out to the abandoned courtyard and sat on a bench.

The look on Syaoran's face was branded in her mind, and to her surprise, Sakura saw tears spill onto her tray. Why on earth was she crying? He was just some selfish, arrogant snob, and Sakura had actually expected him to refuse—just not that way. Her thoughts wandered to why she even asked him, and she remembered the dare.

Sakura wiped her eyes and threw her food out, not eating anything. She felt new resolve; she'd endured three years of relative obscurity, and even beyond that, heartless bullying. She wasn't going to let Mai get the last laugh. She was going to ask Syaoran Li out on a date, and he was going to say yes. Now she just had to think up a plan.

* * *

Syaoran drank his water absentmindedly as he listened to Yamazaki loudly tell a joke to the boys at the lunch table. He wasn't listening to the joke; Yamazaki being one of his best friends, he'd heard the joke plenty of times, enough to make him want to punch Yamazaki in the face every time he heard it. The boys roared with laughter, and soon after, the subject changed. Syaoran sighed and opened an ear.

"So, are you guys going to go to the skating rink tonight?" Yamazaki asked.

All of the boys nodded and murmured in agreement.

"You're going, Syaoran, right?" one of the boys asked him.

Syaoran merely shrugged.

Yamazaki looked at him confusedly. "I thought you said you'd go?"

Syaoran shrugged again. "If all the girls will be there, they're going to bug me."

All the boys groaned.

"For crying out loud, you're such an anti-social! What do the girls see in you anyway? God, if there was something I could give just to see how you'd even interact with a member of the opposite sex—" Yamazaki stopped talking for a second. A plan was forming in his head, Syaoran could tell, and he frowned as a grin slowly spread over Yamazaki's face. "Syaoran, I have a challenge for you."

Syaoran looked warily at his friend, screwing and unscrewing the cap of his water bottle. "A challenge, huh?"

"Look. If you go out with the next girl who asks you on a date, I'll try to predict whether or not you guys are compatible enough to stay in a relationship that lasts at least a month. If I'm wrong, I'll go to college."

Syaoran was surprised. They were all sixteen and ready to graduate in a year. Both Syaoran and Eriol planned to go to very good universities, especially since they had the grades to make it there, but Yamazaki had said that high school was enough. He was like a brother to Syaoran, so his not going to college really worried him. It wouldn't be as easy to get a decent job without going to college.

One of the things Syaoran wanted most was for Yamazaki to get into a university—he had good enough grades, so it was a definite possibility if Yamazaki would just make the effort. However, this relationship idea was the problem; the reason why he hated dates was because to him, girls were all the same. They were stuck-up, self-involved snobs who never talked about anything or anyone but themselves; and if they weren't they were geeks who had no lives. And no matter what their differences, both external and internal, they all had one thing in common: they wanted to have a piece of Syaoran's immense—and slightly inexplicable—popularity.

For a brief moment, Syaoran wondered why Yamazaki would so recklessly bet his future on whether Syaoran got a girlfriend. Reason came to his aid. _Come on, it'll make Yamazaki go to college! _

Despite his cold exterior, Syaoran would have done anything for Eriol and Yamazaki—brothers to him, as he'd grown up with only a mother and four sisters—and the thought of winning something so easily made him want to jump at the chance. Just one little date, and if Yamazaki said that the relationship would work out, he'd just sabotage it. If he said the opposite...well, then Syaoran would force himself to keep the relationship going. He wouldn't like it one bit, but if it made him go to college...

"I'll do it."

The boys at the table all grinned, each one knowing that he would have to accept no matter what the circumstances were. It was like a sick reality show. Yamazaki grinned along with them, and strangely, he was quiet the rest of the lunch period, smiling to himself and letting others tell the jokes for once.

Syaoran's previous thoughts crept back to him. Why would Yamazaki agree to do something he hated so much over whether Syaoran got a girlfriend or not? And then, he realized, even though he felt he'd known for a long time, that Yamazaki would do anything for his friends, too. He wanted Syaoran to find someone he liked.

* * *

Sakura stepped into a tub of hot water. She was taking a short bath so she could be as warm as possible when she got to the skating rink. It was evening now, and other teenagers all over Tomoeda were excitedly getting ready for the ice rink, which hadn't been open for two years.

She'd heard that Syaoran would be there. She felt, for some weird reason, that if she asked Syaoran in front of his friends, there would be more of a chance that he'd say yes. _Or,_ she thought to herself, _there's more of a chance that I'll just be absolutely humiliated. Again. _

Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out of the tub, quickly toweled off, and put on her warmest winter clothes before the warm feeling from the bath was gone. After getting ready, she grabbed her ice skates, yelled down the hall to her father that she was going out, and headed towards the skating rink. It was cold out, but Sakura felt perfectly fine, thanks to her bath.

_I hope he'll say yes this time..._

* * *

Syaoran inhaled fresh, cold air and sighed happily. It'd been awhile since he'd gone skating outside, and it felt good. Stepping onto the ice, he waddled around for a few seconds till he was gliding and turning gracefully. He'd ice skated every winter, but not ever outdoors, at least not for a few years. He ignored the admiring stares from the girls skating or sitting around the rink, until he crashed into someone when he'd looked to the side for a second. The bump caused both to fall hard on the ice.

"_Ow,_" Syaoran heard a feminine voice mutter, and he immediately realized who it was when he saw her eyes. Those green eyes had burned a permanent image in his head that afternoon. "You!"

"Sorry...sorry about that," she murmured quietly, and then looked down at her leg, suddenly wincing in pain.

Syaoran looked down to see what was wrong and gasped. There was a gash in her shin, and blood was starting to spread on her pant leg; by now, a crowd had gathered around the two, who were still on the ground. _The blade on my skate must have slipped against her leg when we crashed, _he thought. Quickly, Syaoran got up and the crowd cleared a path. Sakura tried to stand on both feet, but she ended up having to hop, which was difficult on her ice skates.

A bit reluctantly, Syaoran offered to let her lean on his shoulder until they got off the ice. It _was_ his fault, after all.

People stared shamelessly as Sakura dropped down on a seat and the patrol came by to help. The cut was large and deep; Sakura's pant leg was soaked with blood now. Syaoran stuck around to make sure she was okay, said sorry after her leg had been bandaged, and walked off towards Yamazaki. Yamazaki looked towards Sakura briefly with a slight look of concern on his face, and then looked to Syaoran, who sat down beside him. "Is she okay?"

Syaoran nodded. "Man, you don't watch out for what's in front of you for one second, and this is what happens," he said with a sigh.

Yamazaki laughed. "As long as she's okay and not angry at you, I'm sure it's alright." He changed the subject quickly to something he'd been asking all day. "Has anyone asked you out yet?"

"No, thank God."

Yamazaki sighed. "Well, someone's bound to soon."

The two sat there and talked for awhile, when someone suddenly came over and stood in front of Syaoran.

It was her.

"What do you want?" he muttered irritably, refusing to look at her again. "I said I was sorry."

Sakura looked down at her feet uncomfortably. "Um...no, that's not it. I'm not angry at you—it wasn't your fault. I wasn't looking."

Syaoran's peeved expression softened. Okay, so she wasn't _so_ bad. At least she wasn't as crazy and self-centered as some of the other girls.

"Look, I know I asked you before and you said no, but I'm not out for your popularity or whatever, if that's what you're thinking. I just honestly want to get to know you, and I'm asking you one more time—would you like to go out with me?" Sakura felt herself turn red as she realized she was pretty much telling only half the truth. Get to know him? Possibly. Her main reason, however, was to prove Mai wrong.

_Shoot._ Syaoran looked towards Yamazaki, who happened to be grinning from ear to ear. Of course, Syaoran felt like punching him as hard as he could, Yamazaki being the one who started all of this. He seriously wanted to say no, but he wanted Yamazaki to go to college more; and, not to mention, he did feel really bad for cutting her leg like that.

A little more exasperatedly than he meant to, he sighed and said, "Sure, why not."

Yamazaki smiled, and Sakura laughed happily.

"Really?" they both asked at the same time.

Bewildered, Sakura stared at Yamazaki, who smiled back innocently; baffled but not wanting to be distracted, she turned her attention back to Syaoran.

Syaoran grumbled, "Yeah, really."

"Wow! Great. Where do you want to go?"

"Um...McDonald's or something, I guess." Yamazaki nudged Syaoran hard in the side. "Ow! Fine...let's go to that new restaurant by our school. Today's Friday, right? Um...tomorrow night at seven, then. Meet me there."

Sakura nodded happily and Syaoran glared at Yamazaki. "Are you happy now?"

Yamazaki nodded.

"Syaoran?"

_Her again._

"What?"

Sakura looked a little surprised. "Um...just wanted to say thanks." She slowly walked away.

Yamazaki shook his head. "You seriously need an attitude adjustment when it comes to girls."

Syaoran shrugged. "Whatever. So, will it work out between us?"

Yamazaki stared at Sakura's slowly retreating figure. "I guess there's a small possibility...but I'm definitely thinking no."

Syaoran groaned. He'd have to force himself to keep a month-long relationship...with her, of all people.

* * *

Well, that's it—sorry if the story isn't that great so far. I'll be working on it soon, so please be patient for me to update, and please review! 8) Thanks for reading!

-Franny


	2. That Smile

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi everyone! Sorry for not updating again...I'm going to give you a warning now—I think the time I'll be updating most frequently is around every two to three months. I have two other stories running, and I tend to get caught up in other things, like school and art. Thanks SO much to everyone who reviewed!

**To AnonymousT: **Thanks so much for your critique! I really needed that—I'll try adding more feeling to the writing, and I did go back and fix the bet after reading your review. I'll also try to work on my format. Thanks a lot!

**Chapter 2: **That Smile

"You've got to be kidding me," Eriol rasped into the phone quietly, partially because of disbelief and partially because of his sore throat. _Stay home for one day and I miss all of this,_ he thought to himself. He was lying in bed, still recovering from a particularly bad cold. His cat, Spinel, jumped onto the bed, mewing and rubbing up against his arm, demanding attention. He patted Spinel absentmindedly.

"Why the hell would I kid you about something like this?" Syaoran said from the other line.

Eriol laughed, which brought about another round of coughing; Syaoran waited patiently for him to finish and muttered something about lozenges.

"Sorry about that," Eriol gasped. "But Sakura Kinomoto? I mean, come on! You could've done a lot better. I don't think I've ever even heard her speak before. And she kind of looks like she'll grow up to be an old, dusty librarian or something."

"Yeah, I know. But the deal was the next girl to ask me out, and...Sakura was the next girl."

"And I had such high hopes for you."

Syaoran scoffed. "Would you quit teasing me? I can't help it that she's the one who asked me out. Anyway, how do you even know about her? I'd never even heard of her until she talked to me."

"I went to middle school with her. I never actually talked to her, but she seemed okay then, just a little quiet. But she got kind of weird in high school," Eriol said, shrugging as if Syaoran could see him.

"Hmm. That's interesting," Syaoran said absentmindedly. "Anyway, are you well enough to go to school on Monday?"

"Sadly, yes."

"All right, then I'll see you at school. I have to go practice, and then I have to go on that dreaded date."

Eriol grinned. "Good luck."

He hung up the phone and lay back on his bed. His mind was spinning with what Syaoran had just told him—the bet...Yamazaki going to college...a date with, of all the girls available in their school, Sakura Kinomoto...and he wondered, very briefly, in the back of his mind, if Yamazaki would end up going to college—if it would actually work out for Syaoran.

_Yeah, right. _He sighed and felt himself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Syaoran walked through the dark, cold mansion towards the south wing, where the training grounds were. He hated living somewhere so large. It was annoying to have to spend minutes walking across his house to get a snack from the kitchen and back to his room.

It was freezing outside, but Syaoran ignored it and stepped into the center of the main training grounds. After stretching, he began to practice, his mind focused on his every movement. It was usually so easy to keep his mind on what he was doing, but for some reason, it seemed to be the hardest thing to do today.

His mind kept drifting off toward what had happened yesterday. He never felt guilty about turning someone down, but for some reason, when he saw her—what was her name? Sakura?—there was something he just couldn't place about her expression that made him feel heavy with guilt.

He tried to put his frustration into his kicks and punches, but it would do no good. He couldn't pay attention, and eventually, he landed flat on his back when he was doing a few complicated jump kicks instead of landing on his feet. Groaning with aggravation, he stayed on the ground for a few minutes, wondering how on earth he'd gotten stuck in this kind of position, and then he got up and stalked off towards his room to get ready.

* * *

No matter how many times she told herself to remain calm, Sakura inevitably became nervous. She couldn't think straight, nothing looked good on her, and she could imagine only one way that the date would go: so horribly that Syaoran would never accept another request for a date again. What was it to her, anyway? She didn't even _like_ him. He was a spoiled brat, that's what he was. What did the other girls see in him?

Sure, he was cute in a strong and silent type of way, and he seemed very grounded for someone of his status; and his elevated status made him the most desired boy in her school. But there didn't seem to be much more to him. Remembering the dare, she gulped and closed her eyes, praying that she wouldn't screw up her first date. Then, she settled for a plaid sky-blue skirt and a white blouse. Slipping on some white knee socks and a pair of blue shoes, she grabbed her purse and looked into the full-length mirror standing off to the side of her bed. She sighed to herself. She looked like a little schoolgirl. _Don't I look enough like that when I'm actually _at_ school? _As a result of going through puberty with only her father and brother—and not even a best friend to rely on—she didn't quite know how to dress...or how to shop...or even how to put on makeup. She'd ignored it all, telling herself that it didn't really matter; but the truth was, that to people her age, it did.

_Whatever,_ she thought to herself, and opened the door.

"Otou-san, I'm going out! I'll be home soon." She headed out the door and walked the regular route to school, since the restaurant was right next to it.

When she got there, Sakura was sweaty from rushing and ten minutes late. However, she looked around the restaurant, and she didn't see any sign of Syaoran there. She even asked the doorman if she had seen him come in, and he said he hadn't; there had been no teens in the restaurant besides Sakura all night.

For a moment, she thought that he might have stood her up. It was believable, since she was Sakura Kinomoto, and Syaoran was the high school idol. In fact, it was more than believable. It was expected.

_Quit being so negative!_ She shook the thought out of her head and decided to wait for twenty minutes or so. He was probably just late.

She let the hostess lead her to a small table in the back of the restaurant, which was a nicely secluded, dimly lit area with a romantic aura to it. It was too bad this date was the least romantic thing Sakura could think of. She thanked the hostess, sat down, and began to wait.

After awhile, a waiter came by to ask for her order. She apologized and said that she was waiting for one, and the waiter said he'd be back later, moving on to take another person's order instead.

Ten minutes passed by. Sakura checked her watch. Twenty. Sakura thought about ordering without him. Thirty. _That's it, _Sakura thought to herself. _He ditched me. What's the point in staying? I should go home._ She wasn't sad, in particular. She was angry. But her body reacted similarly to both emotions—she hated it, but she was one of those people who cried if they were frustrated enough. And naturally, she was frustrated. She felt her eyes watering and mentally kicked herself, squinting to hold everything in. She refused to cry over Syaoran again.

It was enough the first time he'd rejected her, even though she'd expected it; but she hadn't even thought that he would stand her up until it struck her mind thirty minutes ago. She should've seen it coming. She should've—

"Hey."

Sakura's eyes went wide with surprise as she saw Syaoran, dressed in a green button-down and khakis, sit down across from her.

"S-Syaoran?" She'd been so convinced that he'd ditched her that the last thing she expected was for him to actually show up.

"Sorry I was so late. My mother got word I was going on a date and she made me change my outfit, and then I had to drop off a letter for her on my way here and I couldn't find the P.O. box—hey, are you crying?"

Sakura hurriedly wiped her eyes. "No, of course not."

Syaoran looked at her suspiciously, but his expression quickly turned to one of exasperation. "Whatever. Let's order."

They ordered, and after the waiter left, there didn't seem to be much to say.

_Say something. Say anything. It's not a date if you don't talk! _"So...really cold weather we've been having." Sakura instantly regretted saying something so stupid.

"It's December. Of course it's cold, idiot," Syaoran snapped, and Sakura winced.

He sighed. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. If I'm grouchy or whatever, it's because I'm not used to controlling what I say a lot of the time," he said, staring at the table.

Sakura nodded. _What a jerk_. _Is it really worth it to go through with the dare? I'm not even sure if I can get through the first date without wrecking everything, _she thought silently to herself. She still had to ask him on two more, and she had to do it before December was over.

The food came in, and they both ate in silence.

* * *

Syaoran sighed to himself. This had to be _the _dullest date ever—not that he knew, since he'd never actually been out with anyone before. But all the same, it was dull. It couldn't be the same thing that the guys raved and rambled on about during lunch. _You'd think that if she asks me out, she'd at least make an effort to be less boring. I guess it's up to me._

"So, Sakura, what do you like to do as a hobby?"

In response, Sakura nearly choked on her food. _He's actually asking about me?_

Syaoran snorted, rolling his eyes. _All I did was ask her a question. What the hell is wrong with her? _

After recovering, Sakura tried to calm herself down. This was what she'd wanted, right? She'd wanted him to express some interest—or at least _feign_ interest to make these dates more bearable—but now, she was acting like a complete idiot. _Okay, okay, it's not a big deal. It's not like he's a celebrity or something. God, I must look stupid,_ she thought, and she glanced up for a moment. He was staring at her like she was deranged.

"Well, I do a paper route in the mornings sometimes, and I really like bike-riding. I also like running...and piano, I guess. My mom taught that to me when I was younger, but after she died, I didn't have anyone to teach me. So now I play for fun..." she trailed off. She could've kicked herself; she was rambling. "What about you?" she asked quickly.

Syaoran shrugged in response. He was surprised—she liked to run and ride bikes, she said. So she did something athletic for a change. But then again, she did come out sounding a bit like a stereotypical nerd, the way she spoke—as though she were lying to make herself sound cooler. "I like martial arts," he said, "and I like to draw." _Hm...is there anything else I like?_ "And I like hanging out with my friends."

She looked down at her plate and pursed her lips, not saying anything in response.

_She's acting like I'm throwing rocks at her or something! _"Why'd you do that?"

She looked up at him, and he tried his best not to look away. Those eyes were creepy.

"Do what?" she asked innocently.

"You just...you flinched or something."

"Oh, did I?" She laughed halfheartedly at herself.

"Yeah. Why?"

"You'd laugh if I told you," she said.

From the way she was looking at him, Syaoran could tell that she was judging him, and he was surprised to find that it aggravated him. He wasn't actually interested, but just to prove her wrong... "Try me."

"Well...well," she stumbled through her words. She didn't know if she could actually get away with saying this next part. "It's just because...I don't know. You mentioned your friends...no offense, but they're all kind of jerks." She couldn't look him in the eye as she spoke. "I get enough of it at school...I'd like to keep them out of my thoughts as much as I can, you know?"

He looked at her in surprise, but he didn't say anything. Sakura didn't know how to judge that reaction, so she stared at her food and ate in silence.

This was such a bad idea, and she didn't even see the point in trying to impress Mai anymore. She sighed miserably, and Syaoran couldn't help but notice. He felt kind of bad for her—the fact that she didn't have many friends had never really crossed his mind; he'd always been pretty popular himself.

"Hey," he said, trying not to sound grouchy over the boring date, "I'm...er...sorry about that. It must be hard. Not having friends, I mean."

Sakura stopped picking at her food and looked up at him, and for a fleeting moment, she felt less loathing towards him. "It's okay."

There was a stale silence hanging in the air, and Syaoran tried to continue the conversation. "If it helps any, I don't...I don't like to join in and bully people like they do. It's pretty lame."

Sakura nodded and smiled kind of crookedly. He could tell the smile was fake.

"But you don't stop your friends. It makes you almost as bad, if not worse, than your friends. It's kind of...cowardly." _Oh, crap. Did I just say that out loud?_

Syaoran felt his cheeks go red and felt a sour feeling—like guilt—flood through his body. He didn't quite know whether to be surprised or ticked off; not too many people spoke to him like that. He was caught off guard, as well—she'd been so quiet and timid the whole dinner, and then she suddenly came out saying, with brutal honesty, that he was a coward? He was about to say something cruel back, but Yamazaki's voice floated through his mind—_"__You seriously need an attitude adjustment when it comes to girls." _And, he remembered the wager he had with Yamazaki...so he inhaled, exhaled, and said, "I'll try to stop them if they say anything nasty about you again."

Sakura smiled this time—a real smile, and Syaoran was a little taken aback. He could see something very pretty—not quite beautiful, but pretty—in her smile. "Thanks, Syaoran."

He nodded, now completely caught off guard. _So_, he thought, _this date wasn't as boring as I thought it'd be. _

They finished their dinner off in a peaceful silence, and when dessert came, Sakura felt a little braver and decided to start up another conversation. "Syaoran?"

Syaoran looked up from his cheesecake. "Yeah?"

"Do you like our school?" _Okay, random question...but it starts a conversation, right?_

"Not really," he said rather bluntly, and he went back to his food.

Mildly surprised, Sakura paused to digest this. She didn't understand it. "But you're so popular!"

"Popularity isn't the greatest thing sometimes. To tell you the truth, I'd almost like to be ignored most of the time."

"But...why?"

"I don't know, it's weird. They all feel like they have to do things for me and impress me all the time, as if I'm some kind of celebrity or prince or something. I hate it. I want them to be _real_ around me, to be genuine—but most of them are so busy trying to act like someone completely different around me, just so they can be friends with me." He exhaled and literally felt his shoulders relax, and he wondered why he suddenly revealed something like this to a girl he didn't even know.

"I'd rather be popular than ignored," she replied thoughtfully, and trailed off.

Okay, he could see that. Maybe in a situation like hers, popularity and fakeness would be more desirable than being a complete outcast. But he was frustrated for some reason, and her quiet responses were annoying him to no end, so he snapped before he could even think about Yamazaki's conditions. "Well you're not me, are you?"

Sakura stared at him for a second, then looked down at her dessert again. _Back to square one_. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Syaoran sighed. "It's all right." He didn't feel very much like apologizing, even though he knew it was his fault for snapping. "Let's just pay and leave."

Sakura sighed shakily and realized that Syaoran was only paying half of the bill. She paid the other half, plus the tip, and stood up. "Thanks for taking me out, Syaoran...I appreciated it."

She was working up the courage to ask him out on another date, but before she could, she nearly fell backwards in surprise when she heard, "Do you want to go out with me again, like...a week from now or something?"

Syaoran didn't like the idea at all; in fact, he'd probably spend his entire week dreading it. If he had to take another night of this, he'd go crazy. But what choice did he have? Yamazaki's future was flashing before his eyes. Now, he'd just have to worry about whether or not she'd want to—

Sakura nodded. "Sure."

He nodded, masking his relief, and walked to the door of the restaurant to leave. "See you later."

Sakura grabbed her coat and started off towards her house. He hadn't even offered to take her home. She hurried through the dark streets. _Why would he ask me out again? It's pretty clear he doesn't like me..._ She shook her head._ The point is, we're going out again, and pretty soon, the bet will be done and over with, and then I'll forget that any of this happened. Right?_

Sakura got into her house safe and sound, and after reading a book for a little while, she got ready for bed and went to sleep. This had actually been one of her better Fridays, despite the way Syaoran acted.

She hadn't been so lonely this time.

* * *

Syaoran was in his room, sketching absentmindedly. He liked drawing. It was his other outlet; his main way of releasing stress was through his martial arts, but when he couldn't do martial arts because he was sick or injured, he'd always liked drawing. It calmed him down. And after years of mindless doodling, he'd come to develop his own style and draw like a professional.

At times, he thought so much while he drew that he wouldn't know what he was drawing until he was done. Tonight, he was thinking about the date. It hadn't been as bad as he'd expected, actually. Sure, she was pretty annoying, and her looks weren't exactly up to par, and she was only barely tolerable...but it was better than being with some girl who would wait on him hand and foot and fall over herself trying to please him. He had enough maids and butlers at home for all of that.

The phone rang. He picked it up and kept drawing. "Hello?"

"Hey, Syaoran." It was Eriol.

"Hey."

"How'd the date go?"

Syaoran thought to himself for a second. He opted to tell the truth. "It wasn't as bad as I expected it to be."

He could surprise in Eriol's voice. "Oh, really? Was it fun?"

"More like exasperating," Syaoran scoffed. "But like I said, I think I made it out to be worse than it actually was."

Eriol laughed. "Who knows, maybe you two have a chance." There was high doubt in his voice, and Syaoran could notice some sarcasm.

"Her and me? I don't think so." He was done sketching...now he just needed to color the picture. He still couldn't figure out what the picture was. All he could make out was a girl's smiling face. He pulled out his colored pencils and picked a random color and began coloring the eyes.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Eriol said, and Syaoran could tell that Eriol was smiling from the tone of his voice. "Hey, well, I have to go now. I think Yamazaki and some of the guys are going to go watch a movie or something. Wanna come?" he offered.

"Nah, I think I'll stay home tonight," Syaoran replied, carefully shading in the eyes of the picture.

After hanging up, he put the phone back on the cradle and continued coloring and shading his picture. When he finished, he stretched his fingers out and brushed all the eraser rubber off of the picture. He sat back and stared at the picture, and almost fell out of his chair.

The picture he'd drawn was a picture of Sakura Kinomoto, smiling her pretty smile.

* * *

And that's it! Once again, sorry for taking so long on the chapter! -.-;; I'm not sure if you can actually do that—color a picture without realizing what you're coloring, but I know you can sketch a picture without really thinking from experience, haha. Anyhow, please leave a nice review, or even a constructive critique! Thanks for reading!

-Franny


	3. Those Eyes

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Helloooo! Back to update 8) Hm. I can tell by far that I'm having the most fun with this story out of all three of mine so far; I couldn't wait to update this one. I'm so glad you guys are reviewing! All of you are so supportive; I don't know what I'd be doing without you. Thanks so much! By the way, sorry for taking such a long time to update. As an added bonus, though, I'll try to make this chapter extra-long:3

**Chapter 3: **Those Eyes

"Oh, my God." Syaoran stared at the picture in pure disbelief. Why it was so hard for him to believe he'd unconsciously drawn a picture of Sakura, he had no idea, but all he knew at the moment was that he was scaring himself. He stood up and rubbed his eyes.

This, of course, had no effect on the picture before him.

Syaoran sighed and sat back down. He took a closer look at the picture. Although the face was undoubtedly Sakura's, it was still a good picture. The shading had been just right, the colors were good together, and everything was in proportion. He would hate to throw it away, but at the same time, he knew it'd become an object of frustration to him.

_What if a friend finds the picture? Worse, what if Sakura finds the picture...somehow? The best idea is to throw it away._

With that, he took the drawing and dropped it into his wastebasket. At first, he felt a sort of relief, but then, as he stared at the picture in the wastebasket, he felt guilty. Something in the back of his mind told him that he was only throwing it away because the picture was of Sakura, and it was true. If it had been anyone else, anyone more attractive and popular, like Mai or Meiling, then he would've kept the picture and maybe even given it to them. Sighing, he picked it out of the trash. Staring at it in his hands, he thought, _Why the hell did I draw Sakura? Why couldn't I draw someone else? I mean, at least someone good-looking..._

Right after thinking that, he felt even guiltier than before.

"Argh!" Syaoran shoved the drawing inside one of his textbooks, where he couldn't see it anymore. It was giving him a headache. He'd figure out what to do with it later.

Rethinking what he'd thought earlier, he decided that Sakura wasn't the best-looking girl around, but she wasn't necessarily ugly. There was just something about her persona that made her unattractive. It wasn't a matter of how nice she was, because when it came down to it, she was a very nice person, no matter how annoying she was. It was more of something about her confidence. It was almost as though she lived to let people push her around.

He thought about what she said earlier at their date: "_It's just because...I don't know. You mentioned your friends...no offense, but they're all kind of jerks. I get enough of it at school...I'd like to keep them out of my thoughts as much as I can, you know?"_

In truth, she was right. His friends always said cruel things about people like Sakura, and they went on and on relentlessly. It was like they had no compassion. Sometimes, they spent entire lunchtime conversations making fun of those poor kids. What was worse, though, was when they made fun of them to their faces. Syaoran really never did join in, since he thought it as pointless and a waste of time, but Sakura had been right about another thing, too—he'd never, not even once, done anything to stop his friends from bullying other kids. Up until now, he hadn't really cared.

But now...now, he did see her point. He hadn't actually meant it earlier, when he said that he'd try to stop his friends, but now, he saw that it was worth a try.

He looked at the clock. It was late, but he wasn't sleepy at all. He wished he'd gone to the movies with Eriol while he'd had the chance.

Syaoran got up and changed into loose shorts and a t-shirt and stepped out of his room. He walked down the long hallway, his feet cold against the well-polished marble floor. Making his way towards the south wing, he stopped by the kitchen to get a bottle of water. He was going to practice; after an hour or so, he'd be able to fall asleep.

Quietly, he went outside to the training grounds and turned on the lights. The grounds came into view. There were three raised wooden platforms set on the grass—those were where Syaoran practiced forms and sets of different moves. Then, there was a larger, wider platform made of stone that wasn't raised—that was for sparring practice. Of course, it hurt if he fell during a sparring match, but not falling was important—that was why the platform was made of stone. He stepped onto the center of one of the three wooden platforms and, as he had done that afternoon, ignored the biting cold. Automatically, he began a complicated set of moves for a warm-up. However, his mind wasn't on the moves like it should have been.

_Front kick. Shift. Jump. Somersault._

What was odd was that he normally fell asleep very easily, usually right after his head hit his pillow.

_Stand. Block. Punch. Shift._

He only had to train to fall asleep when something really important or exciting had happened.

_Side kick. Punch. Back flip- CRASH!_

"_SHIT_!" Syaoran yelled as he fell backwards and landed hard on his back, his head crashing against the hard wooden floor. He'd slipped somehow during his back flip, and instead of landing on his feet, he'd fallen. He opened his eyes and saw stars. Cursing under his breath, he clenched his teeth against the throbbing pain at the back of his head and struggled to breathe; the fall had knocked the wind out of him. Once he could breathe again, he stared at the floor of the platform. There was no water, or anything besides the floor, for that matter; how could he have slipped?

He'd mastered this set ages ago, when he was a mere ten years old. Now, six years and many practices later, he'd fallen for the first time since before he'd mastered it. Swearing under his breath, he realized he hadn't concentrated enough.

_How the hell am I supposed to fall asleep if I can't even train correctly?_

"Syaoran, what are you doing out here so late?"

Syaoran spun around from where he was sitting. It was his mother, who looked tall and graceful and very...well, _motherly,_ even at one in the morning. She walked over onto the wooden platform and sat down next to him. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing, Mother. I just couldn't sleep."

"Then that means something is on your mind."

Syaoran was just about to protest when his mother interrupted him.

"I won't prod you. I'll mind my own business. But whatever it is, I'm sure you'll pull through. Go to bed soon, all right?" She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment, and then Syaoran heard her walk away from behind.

His mother had always been very supportive. In everything he'd ever done, he'd been closely watched by trainers and tutors, and they all managed to find errors and flaws in his performance at anything—school, martial arts, even his art (although the particular critic who'd carped about Syaoran's drawing had ended up going to the hospital with a bloodied and broken nose shortly after; "I felt provoked," was Syaoran's innocent excuse)—but where critics found the bad, his mother had always found, and if needed, pointed out, the good.

Syaoran, now a full-fledged sixteen years old, had learned over the years how to block off any emotion that was a result of the brutal criticism he received while training or studying. While practicing, his martial arts teachers would snipe at him about this mistake or that, and he would just grunt a reply and work twice as hard to get their approval. No tears, no laughter. Progress, he'd learned over the years, never came without pain.

However, earlier on, he'd actually had a hard time handling criticism. When he was a child, before he'd so determinedly learned to destroy any sense of emotion that showed weakness before it could fully reach his mind and make him lose his concentration or confidence...

Syaoran had been quite the crybaby.

Of course, this was not the Syaoran everyone knew at school, given his high social status.

But there was no denying it; Syaoran Li had been a sensitive kid, and to say it took him a long time to toughen up was an understatement. He'd only learned to control himself the very day after he turned ten—six years after he'd started his training. Before that, he'd always get upset when someone criticized him—he didn't _always_ cry, but he did most of the time.

Actually, out of all of the criticisms, there was one particularly painful memory he always flinched at when he remembered, the event that had caused him to toughen up in the first place. Somehow, he remembered everything about this day in perfect detail—from what was done, to what was said, to how everything came together.

"_Li, you'll never get any better if you don't speed up when you attack!"_

_A ten-year-old Syaoran bit his lip and nodded. "Y-yes, of course..." _

_Nervously, he wiped sweat off of his forehead. It was incredibly hot. His hair, matted down to his sweaty forehead and neck, was also drenched in sweat. He'd been training for the past three hours in eighty-degree weather. There were two things that made it worse: one, his teacher was a madman—calling him pushy was an understatement; and two, it was his birthday. He'd finally turned ten, but he didn't feel special at all. He just felt miserable. Desperate for his teacher's approval, he scrambled back to his starting place on the wooden platform and bowed. _

_He was spending today's lesson sparring the teacher, who was unbelievably swift and merciless. Syaoran already had four bruises along his left shin and two on each forearm. There was another one on his cheek; that one hurt the most._

_Feeling weak with nerves, he got into a fighting stance. The match started. _

_Syaoran felt his heart racing. _Calm down, _he told himself. _Remember your training. _But he barely had time to block before his teacher nearly cuffed his head with a high, well-placed kick. Knowing that the kick was too close for comfort, Syaoran nervously shifted around. _

"_Speed up, Li!" His teacher yelled._

"_Y-yes, sir." Syaoran felt himself move around slightly faster as he attempted and failed, many different kicks and combos. Blocking and moving backwards as his teacher released a sudden and relentless stream of kicks, Syaoran panicked. He'd lose if he didn't speed up. He racked his brain for a counterattack strategy as he hastily blocked and shifted._

_Yes! He found a strategy; now, just to get into position—WHAM._

_Too late._

_In his concentration at finding a counterattack, Syaoran had forgotten to block, and he received an excruciatingly painful blow to the head. In his surprise and pain, he fell to the ground, his vision becoming clouded by black. Somewhere in the distance, he heard his teacher barking at him to get up. He felt himself feebly making an effort to stand, but collapsing back onto the ground. Suddenly, his teacher jerked him up onto his feet. Syaoran swayed a moment, still unable to focus. The pain in his head was far from fading. Unless he was mistaken, it was actually getting worse._

"_Pay attention!" His teacher barked._

"_I...I think I need to sit down, sir. My head hurts..."_

"_Your head hurts?" The teacher repeated incredulously. "YOUR HEAD HURTS? WHAT KIND OF EXCUSE IS THAT? GET OVER HERE NOW, LI! We're sparring until you get this right!"_

_Reluctantly, Syaoran stumbled forward. His head throbbed painfully. He felt tears spring to his eyes, but he wiped them away hurriedly. The teacher was too busy yelling to notice; Syaoran was so used to his teacher's yelling by now that he didn't even take it to heart anymore. _

"_Fighting stance, Li!"_

_Syaoran obediently bowed and got into a fighting stance, and the match started again. He remembered to keep his speed up, moving around and trying to be light on his feet, but this match was far worse than the last; he wasn't nearly as prepared this time for his teacher's once again sudden and harsh string of kicks and jumps and punches in every direction. Desperately, he tried to think of another counter-strategy, but panic flooded his mind and there was no room left for thinking. Syaoran knew what was coming even before it hit him. _

_A shower of kicks and punches began to engulf his entire body—his arms, his legs, his entire torso, and, worst of all, his head. Almost immediately, he fell to the ground, tears mixing with his sweat and blood, and he had no restraint left to control his crying. His head nearly exploded with pain, and he could hear nothing except his own gasping for air; he was vaguely aware that his teacher was screaming furiously at him to rise, but everything hurt too much for Syaoran to care. Everything was a little surreal; it was almost like he'd floated out of his body and was watching everything that was going on around him from the sky. Everything was hazy and faint. He could make out the figure of his cruel teacher, standing over him and yelling, screaming, throwing a fit. He could see himself, cowering on the ground, crying and scared, just barely holding onto consciousness. He briefly wondered to himself if this was one of those crazy, near-death, out-of-body experiences that people always talked about. And then, he could see his teacher bending down to pull him up so he'd fight again._

_He panicked. He couldn't fight anymore! His teacher was crazy, he decided. Crazy and too ambitious to be training a ten-year-old. Suddenly, he was inside his body again. He felt panic rush through him again; his teacher was going to kill him if he didn't do something to resist. But what could he do? He could barely move, everything hurt so much. And no one would see, no one could help. Syaoran closed his eyes tiredly as he felt a pair of strong hands pull him roughly up, and he began to pray._

_He didn't know if there really was a God or not, but this was no time to worry about whether or not he believed. He prayed for help, promised that he wouldn't be so weak from now on, that he would try very hard—try his best—to become stronger, better, that he wouldn't mess up anymore, that he wouldn't cry anymore—_

"_SYAORAN!" _

_Syaoran opened his eyes slowly and suddenly saw three more figures on the platform with his teacher. One was his mother, rushing over to him to help him; another was Wei, their servant and a close family friend; and the third was Clow Reed, another teacher of his—Syaoran's favorite teacher. All around himself, he saw blood; what part of his body it was coming from, he didn't even know, because everything hurt so badly. _

_Wei and Clow Reed were furious—even through Syaoran's barely conscious state, he could tell—and Clow Reed was shouting loudly at the teacher, who, in turn, shouted just as loudly back. Wei was trying to sort the matter out, playing peacemaker. He could make out bits and pieces of what they were saying, and he could recognize who was saying what— _

"_He wasn't training correctly. He's a weak boy, and my job was to turn him into a man—" his teacher, of course._

"_TURN HIM INTO A _MAN_? ARE YOU _INSANE_? Your job is to train him to the best of his ability, not to force him to live up to your expectations, which, by the way, are totally—" Clow Reed. _

"_Sirs, could you please keep your voices down? Master Li is injured, and I don't think either of you are helping!" Wei. _

_The two squabbling men ignored him, and Syaoran heard his teacher yell over Wei's voice. "THE BOY WOULDN'T BE IN PAIN RIGHT NOW IF HE WOULD LISTEN TO ME—" _

"_DO YOU THINK THAT MATTERS RIGHT NOW? YOU NEARLY KILLED THIS BOY! HE'S ONLY TEN—" Clow Reed again. _

"_WELL YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK—" The teacher, but he was cut off by Clow Reed—_

"_I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YOU THINK, THANK YOU VERY MUCH—" But then, Clow Reed was cut off by the teacher, and the situation might have been funny if it were about anything else._

"_I THINK THAT ALL OF YOU NEED TO GO AND TAKE YOUR SENTIMENTALITY AND SHOVE IT—"_

_Syaoran felt himself smile a little, despite the pain, at how odd it was to hear peaceful Clow Reed getting so worked up._

"_MEN! ALL THREE OF YOU! WOULD YOU PLEASE PUT YOUR BRAINS BEFORE YOUR PRIDE? Can't you see Syaoran is hurt?" Yelan yelled, stopping the argument altogether._

_Clow Reed looked ashamed of himself. The teacher, on the other hand, just scoffed. He turned to leave. "Call me when you know that your pathetic boy can fight."_

_Yelan immediately got up, strode over to the teacher, and punched him as hard as she could in the face. The teacher staggered back and fell._

"_If you think I'll ever call you again, you maniac, you're dreaming. Now please, get off of my grounds." _

_The teacher stalked way, and Syaoran felt relief surge through him. _

_Syaoran closed his eyes as he heard his mother walk back and kneel beside him, and realized that his prayer had been answered. In turn, he decided, he'd hold up his end of the deal—he'd stop being weak. He would learn._

_The next day, Syaoran trained—without a teacher, temporarily—as hard as he could, not even wincing at the sting of his injuries from the day before. _

Syaoran had been truly afraid of that teacher. At that time, he'd been too young to realize that the teacher had been pushing it, that he had been abusive_—_Syaoran had thought it was all just requirement, but when his mother explained that what the teacher had been doing was very wrong, he'd grown to hate that man. From then on, Clow Reed, who was also a very talented martial artist, had been his main teacher, although Syaoran did have other teachers on the side.

He rubbed the back of his head and stood up. He was getting tired, come to think of it. After he got this set right, he'd take a shower and go to bed. Sure enough, Syaoran just hadn't been concentrating enough_—_he cleared his mind of all thought and began the set again, and finished it perfectly.

After turning out the outdoor lights and walking back inside, he shuffled up two floors back to his bathroom to shower. "I knew dating that girl was a bad idea; why can't Yamazaki just go to college without having to lose a stupid bet to go?" he muttered to himself angrily. If he kept on thinking about other things—dating, for instance—he'd never get any training done.

He showered, lay down on his bed, and fell asleep before he could even get under the blankets.

* * *

"Otou-san, I'm going on my paper route!" Sakura called to her father as she walked downstairs to the kitchen. It was Sunday morning, and Sakura usually delivered papers to make some extra money.

Her father, Fujitaka Kinomoto, was sitting at the breakfast table, chewing a piece of toast and doing paperwork. He was a professor at the local university. He was off today, but he was a workaholic, so he usually did work even on his free days. Sakura wasn't too into what he did for a living, but she respected it all the same_—_ Fujitaka always worked very hard to provide for Sakura and her brother, Touya.

He'd always been a very kind man, understanding and helpful, and he was widely respected because he was a very intelligent person. Her mother, Nadeshiko, had passed away of an odd disease of some sort when Sakura was three. Since she'd been very young when her mother had passed, Sakura didn't remember a lot; but she did have a few memories. The first few years had been hard on both Touya and her father, she could tell; she remembered how different and sad they had both been when she was six or seven years old. But time had passed, and now, it was much easier to face the situation; in fact, Fujitaka loved to tell stories about her now.

"All right, Sakura. But be careful, okay?" Fujitaka looked up from his papers and smiled at her through his reading glasses.

"All right," Sakura smiled back.

"Morning, Kaijuu (monster). Want some breakfast?" Touya was at the stove, frying eggs. Toast popped out of the toaster.

Sakura punched her brother lightly on the arm, feigning offense. "I'm not a kaijuu!"

"Of course you are. Now sit down and have something before you go."

"I'm going to be late!"

"You're always late. What's the point of trying to be on time if you know you're already late?"

"Oh, shut up_—_"

Touya stuffed a piece of toast into her open mouth, effectively cutting her off.

This went on every morning. Touya, although extremely protective of his younger sister, had a knack for annoying the living daylights out of her. He was eighteen and on his last year of high school, and he planned on going to a very good university_—_ he had the grades_—_and he was going to work to become a doctor or a teacher.

Because of Touya and her father, Sakura's home life was much more satisfying than her school life; it was more social_—_if she could count her family as social. It wasn't just Sakura's family that she talked to at home, though_—_there was also Yukito, Touya's best friend, who was in the same grade as Touya. Since he'd known Touya for a long time, he'd also grown well-acquainted with Sakura, as well, and he was like another older brother to her.

Sakura was different at home from the way she was at school. At home, she was a lot happier, more carefree, and highly confident, because she knew her family would accept her for who she was. At school, it was harder; and so she tried to keep as quiet as possible, didn't speak unless spoken to, and the light skip she had in her step at home was gone at school. She'd tried to change, but it was difficult, especially when students like Mai and her crew or the boys who hung out with Syaoran stepped in.

And Sakura had simply grown to accept it—she didn't have the kind of courage it took to be herself in front of...well, everyone. Her school was like an alternate universe, where people like Mai or Meiling or Chiharu were champions, and people like Sakura were considered worthless.

She chewed as fast as she could and swallowed the piece of toast in her mouth, then ran towards the door. "I'm leaving," she called, and disappeared out the front door.

A second later, she ran back in, mumbling that she forgot her bag.

She stumbled into her bedroom, grabbed her bag (a messenger bag, which made it a lot easier for her to carry around newspapers or books), and said goodbye to her family once again. Outside, she grabbed the pile of tied-up newspapers on her doorstep by their string and untied them. Making sure she rolled them up securely, she stuffed them one by one into her messenger bag, which she'd tied around her handlebars a second ago, and when she was finished, she checked her watch and gasped. It was 7:30. A lot of people would already be outside on their doorstep, looking for their Sunday paper.

Sakura hopped onto her bike and pedaled furiously towards the starting point of her route.

She'd been delivering the paper every other day for about a year now. She was a morning person, most definitely. She had no trouble getting up at four or five on weekdays, considering she usually fell asleep very early—around eight or nine. She was, however, always about five minutes late, so the people who received the papers good-naturedly began to learn to come out a little later for their paper than usual after awhile. Who delivered the papers every morning that she didn't, she didn't know.

Sakura reached the first subdivision and went straight ahead, taking a roll of newspapers and throwing it perfectly with a well-practiced arm. It landed right on the doorstep of the house. Several people, Sakura could see, were waiting on their doorstep for their papers.

"I'm really sorry," she called out as she rode by, feeling embarrassed, but most of the people just laughed it off.

About an hour later, Sakura finished her paper route and decided to ride to the gas station to get something to drink. There was a shortcut off to the side somewhere that made it so the upcoming hill wasn't as steep...ah, here it was. She took a left and went into an alleyway of sidewalks surrounded by houses and pedaled her way up the hill on the sidewalk. Then, suddenly, as she was coming to the hardest part of the hill, a jogger popped out of nowhere. Surprised, Sakura braked as fast as she could, but swerved to the side, off the sidewalk, and onto the road. She fell sideways as she toppled into a tangled mess with her bike.

"Ow," she hissed to herself, and then she remembered that she'd collided with someone in the process and apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you—" she said, pushing her bike off of her and massaging her hip, which she'd landed on.

"You?"

"...Excuse me?" Sakura looked up at the jogger. Who else could it have been? With her luck, she should've expected it. Of course, it was Syaoran.

Happy, carefree Sakura disappeared. Awkward, timid Sakura replaced her immediately.

"Are you okay?" He asked her.

"Uh—yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just...I just scratched myself up a little..." Sakura smiled sheepishly. She looked up at him, and then felt herself immediately turn a deep shade of scarlet and stared at her shoes again. She hadn't noticed before, but she suddenly realized Syaoran had been jogging without a shirt on. He'd had one on earlier, obviously, as he was holding the white shirt in his hand, but he must have taken it off at some point during his jog.

Sakura had heard rumors that Syaoran was a highly athletic martial artist, but she'd never bothered attending school sporting events to find out. Well, now she knew. In her one-second glimpse of him, she'd seen that he was muscular and toned, with well-muscled arms and finely chiseled abs. He was dripping in sweat; he must have been jogging for awhile now, seeing that it wasn't very sunny this morning. She noticed that even through his sweaty, tired, disheveled form, he looked very... Well, he looked a lot better than most people after they were done exercising.

She suddenly became self-conscious of how she looked. She knew she must have looked messy and unattractive with her hair tied up in a messed-up ponytail, several strands sticking to her face, and her shirt wet with sweat and stuck to her back. An hour's worth of bicycling was indeed a good workout, but it didn't leave her looking very nice. She re-tied her hair, unstuck her shirt, and hoped to God that she looked a little better.

"I thought girls were supposed to be graceful," Syaoran muttered. "Obviously, you're an exception."

Sakura flinched.

Syaoran was too in a hurry to care whether he hurt her feelings or not. "Anyway, I have to finish. I still have two kilometers left. Oh, and about our date—next Friday night, my friend Eriol is having a party at his house. We're going together."

Sakura's eyes widened, all hurt feelings forgotten for a fleeting moment. "A...party?"

Syaoran stared at her. "Yeah..." he said in a questioning tone. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"I'm sorry, I can't. I just...I just realized I have plans with my family, and—"

"I thought you wanted to get to know me better?"

"Yes, but a party's not the right place—"

"A party is the perfect place. Either go with me this time or we call everything off." Syaoran was bluffing. Of course he wouldn't call it off, but if Sakura was the way he thought she was, she would definitely take his bait.

"But...do we...do we have to?" Sakura said, her voice now barely above a whisper. A party was the _worst_ place for her to be. The last time she'd gone to a party, it was for her cousin's birthday when she was five. Not having ever gone to a high school party before, she didn't exactly know how it was, but she had a pretty good idea. Her going to one would be just like begging for people to make fun of her.

Syaoran thought he felt something like sympathy for her in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed the feeling away. He couldn't blow this—Yamazaki definitely would have counted not going to the party together as a relationship failure. So he tried to coax her into it, reassuring her that it would be fun and that it wouldn't be so bad.

After a few minutes of it, Sakura was tired of arguing, so she gave in. "All right," she muttered with a sigh. "What do I wear?"

"Something casual, like you did on our last date. Party starts at eight and ends at one, do you think that'll be okay with your parents?"

"Uh, yeah. I just have to clear it up with my father."

"Okay. Meet me at the front of the doors at 7:30, then. We're gonna help Eriol set up, okay? And you'll get directions sometime this week."

Sakura nodded.

Syaoran was about to set off. He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should tell her about the picture, and he almost did, opening his mouth—but then, last minute, he ditched the idea. "See you," he said instead, with a half-wave.

Sakura waved back, but Syaoran didn't see. He'd already started his way down the hill.

* * *

"Sakura?" Fujitaka knocked on Sakura's door. Sakura had been lying in bed, reading a book. After she'd gotten home, she'd made dinner and gotten ready for bed, tired and not wanting to think about the party.

"Come in," she said, putting her book down.

Her father walked in looking tired and overworked, as usual, but he had a smile on his face. He sat down on her bed beside her. "Sakura, do you remember your cousin, Tomoyo?"

"...Tomoyo?" _Oh, right._ Her cousin from Tokyo—the insanely gorgeous one.

"Tomoyo Daidouji."

"Yes, I think I do. Why?"

"Well, I just got off the phone with your aunt, and it turns out they're moving here to Tomoeda from Tokyo."

"Oh?" Sakura was mildly surprised; she knew that her aunt was the president of a large toy company, so she'd always figured they'd live in Tokyo for most of their lives. "When?"

"Tomorrow, actually. They called today...it was very sudden, but it's a business move. They'll be staying with us until they can get situated."

"Oh, I see." So _that_ was why her father looked even more tired than usual. Their house wasn't necessarily the biggest house—it would take a lot of extra effort to accommodate two more people.

"Well, I was wondering if you could just help her around Tomoeda for awhile, just so she gets used to it."

Sakura nodded. "Sure. Oh, Otou-san?"

"Yes?"

"There's this party Friday night, and I was invited..."

"Oh, sure, I'll drop you off," her father replied, seeming completely unaware that it was extremely odd and unusual for her to have been invited to a party. She nearly laughed to herself, wondering what kind of world her father lived in most of the time. "What time does it end?"

"See...that's the problem—it ends at one," she said, playing with a strand of her long hair. She was half-hoping he'd say no.

Fujitaka was silent for a moment. He seemed to be thinking to himself. "Well...I don't know. Do you think you could take care of yourself?"

"Of course," she said with fake enthusiasm. _I guess I'll just have to deal with it..._

"Would you bring Tomoyo?"

"Yes."

"All right, then."

"Thank you. Good night, Otou-san."

"Good night, Sakura."

Sakura was sure Syaoran wouldn't mind if she brought Tomoyo along. After all, Tomoyo was sure to be a hit with the guys—rich, pretty, and from a big city—isn't that what all the guys wanted?

* * *

The next day, Syaoran sat idly at his lunch table, tearing a piece of lettuce off of his hamburger and chewing on it. "This hamburger is the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten," he said, pushing it away from him.

Yamazaki was eating his like his life depended on it. "You don't want it?" He said, his mouth half-full with hamburger.

Syaoran gave his to Yamazaki with no hesitation. Syaoran was sitting between Yamazaki and Eriol on one side of the table. He normally sat across from them, but he didn't feel like facing the direction Sakura was sitting in. For some odd reason, he felt that guilty feeling again about yesterday.

"Thanks, man," Yamazaki exclaimed, facing Syaoran, and flecks of food came flying out of his mouth. Syaoran dodged one by cocking his head a little to the side.

"No problem. Just don't spit on me," he said.

Yamazaki grinned.

"You know what, Yamazaki? You can have mine, too." Eriol pushed his uneaten burger across the table. Yamazaki had such a pleased expression on his face that Eriol started laughing.

"I really do wish I'd brought some pizza," Eriol said regretfully.

"You have bad taste," Syaoran said in disgust.

Eriol sighed; he was used to this. Syaoran was a bit of a health nut, but his friends usually let it go, because he was raised to eat only healthy things. "Syaoran, you don't like any of the food I like."

"I just don't like all of that greasy stuff."

"Because you're a health freak," Yamazaki said absentmindedly as he chewed happily on his second burger. Syaoran slapped Yamazaki on the back of his head, and Yamazaki cried out, more in surprise than in pain. Thankfully, there was no food in his mouth by that point.

"_Ow,_" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head, while Eriol laughed. "So, what about that party?" he asked Syaoran when he got back to eating his burger.

"What about it?" Syaoran said casually.

"Are you taking Sakura, or what?"

Some of the boys sitting near them at the table turned around to listen now, interested and expecting a reply.

"Yeah," Syaoran mumbled, not wanting to talk about it.

"Yeah, as in you're taking her?"

"Yes!" he said, exasperated.

"Ah, jeez...I really don't feel like going to college," Yamazaki said uncertainly.

Syaoran merely smirked.

"Hey, tell you what. You can't just go on dates or stuff like that, because I said a _relationship_. No matter how much you don't like the girl, deal's a deal—a month-long relationship, at the very least, or no college for Takashi Yamazaki."

"So—so what do you want me to do about it, then?" Syaoran said, baffled. "What more do you want?"

"I don't know. Show...signs of affection or something while you two are at school, at least. You barely acknowledge each other in the halls, you know."

"Signs of _affection?_" Syaoran echoed, a bit dismayed. "Yamazaki. Have you noticed that I'm not much of a romantic?"

"Well, you know, there's always the option of working at a hamburger joint after high school..." Yamazaki trailed off nonchalantly, neatly picking a sesame seed off of a hamburger bun and staring at it idly.

"Oh, all right," Syaoran growled. "I'll do it."

"Then do it now."

"_NOW_?"

"That's what I said, didn't I?"

The other boys stared at Syaoran in anticipation. He ran a hand through his hair and felt himself go slightly numb as he got up out of his chair, which surprised him; he'd been through such worse things than this, so how could he possibly feel scared to the point of being numb at something like this? He wondered how Sakura would react as he walked over slowly to her table. He didn't have time to warn her, or anything. _She'll probably flip out or something,_ he mused, and smirked in spite of himself.

And then, he suddenly got an idea. Sakura, unsuspecting, was sitting at her table alone, as usual, reading a book as she sipped her soda. She didn't seem to notice that the noise level of the lunchroom had gone down to a hushed whisper. Syaoran slowly stepped up behind her chair and bent down so his mouth was close to her ear.

"Play along with me, okay? Don't freak out, and _don't ask questions_," he said quietly, so no one else would hear; his whispering in her ear would just seem like a little sign of affection, as Yamazaki had put it.

Sakura jumped a little, concealing her surprise just in time. She merely nodded, knowing that she'd probably be insulted again later if she said something out loud that would give Syaoran away. She wasn't exactly sure what they were about to do or why they were doing it, but she didn't think she wanted to know.

Syaoran took her hand, and she felt his shake very slightly—she looked up at him, and for one second, for the first time in her life, saw a pure look of uncertainty on his face. It disappeared in an instant, though—so quickly that she wondered if she'd been imagining things. Sakura stood up and faced him, very close to him now, so close that she could have comfortably laid her head against his shoulder. Of course, however, she didn't dare. She felt herself blushing and knew that if she didn't control herself, she'd be as red as a tomato before she knew it.

_Get a grip on yourself, Sakura! Like you said to yourself earlier, what is just _so_ attractive about this idiot anyway?_

That seemed to convince her enough for a moment. And then, he did it—emotionlessly, he brushed his lips briefly against hers, trying to make it look meaningful.

Sakura's eyes had widened, so wide that they almost made complete circles, and she stepped back in shock. Syaoran, however, silently indicated with his eyes that this was what she had to play along with.

She recomposed her expression and smiled awkwardly. "Er...so...I'll see you later, then," she said, not looking at him.

Syaoran nodded, and without another word, walked back to his seat. The whole lunchroom immediately broke out in loud conversation, discussing what had just happened. Sakura sat back down and picked her book back up, sipping her soda once more...but she found the soda tasteless, and her book suddenly completely uninteresting.

* * *

"Well, that was a start," Yamazaki said as he, Eriol, and Syaoran leaned against the brick wall of the school. They'd just gotten out of their last class; the lunch period had ended right after Syaoran sat down at his table again, and there had been no time left to discuss anything until after school.

"A _start_? Yamazaki, I damn near kissed the girl, okay?"

"The key words here being 'damn near.' Besides, that didn't even look _natural_. It looked staged!"

Syaoran was aching by now to punch Yamazaki as hard as he could for putting him through so much torture.

Eriol merely laughed lightheartedly at the whole thing, but he ceased immediately when he got a death glare from Syaoran. "You know what? I'm glad I got sick that day, or I know that somehow, I'd have been involved in all of this," he muttered, putting his hands up in an innocent gesture.

Suddenly, Sakura was standing in front of Syaoran.

"Yeah, what do you want?" Syaoran said. _She's doing that annoying thing where she looks at her shoes all the time when she talks, _he thought to himself.

"What was that, back there in the lunch room?" she asked, confusion written all over her face. It was pretty clear that she hadn't thought of anything else since it had happened.

"I just—" he started to make things up at the top of his head. "It was a dare," he said, and he felt comforted that he was telling at least half the truth.

"Oh," she said, but she looked a little hurt, Syaoran noticed. She hadn't actually thought it was genuine, had she? She quickly shook her head and changed the subject. "Do you mind if I bring someone along to the party?"

"Bring someone along on your date? No, no, no! No way!" Yamazaki said suddenly, and Sakura stared at him with a bewildered expression on her face.

Syaoran pulled Yamazaki aside for a second. "She doesn't know that I'm going out with her on a bet," he whispered hurriedly.

"So? What's the point of hiding it? She knows the kiss wasn't real anyway," Yamazaki pointed out.

"Yeah, but...I don't know, I have the feeling if I told her this was all on a bet, then she'd break up with me, and then where would you be?" Syaoran replied.

"Fine, whatever, I'll keep it a secret." Yamazaki grinned good-naturedly.

The two returned to Sakura and Eriol. "Yes, you can bring someone along, but it depends on who it is, I suppose. If it's another guy, no. If it's a girl friend or whatever, fine." Syaoran said to Sakura, a slightly bossy tone in his voice.

"Oh, okay. Well, she's my cousin, Tomoyo Daidouji, and she's moving here from Tokyo tomorrow, so...I don't know, I just want her to fit in. Thanks, though. She's really pretty, by the way, so I'm sure she'd have no problem meeting people at the party..." Sakura said, the last sentence sort of to herself.

"Okay, okay. I didn't even think that you'd have friends to invite, though," Syaoran replied, not quite understanding the impact of what he'd just said.

A moment of silence passed between as Sakura stared at him in shock, tears filling her eyes. She couldn't take it anymore. Slapping across the face as hard as she could, she said in a very quiet voice, "You're a real bastard, you know that?"

Syaoran stared at her in awe, not quite comprehending what she'd just done and said, but feeling the sting of both her slap and her words at the same time. And then he took notice of those eyes again, and he suddenly felt such incredible guilt, all for saying some lousy insult. For a moment, all they did was stare at each other, Syaoran's eyes bewildered and full of sorrow, Sakura's eyes full of anger and sadness and something quite close to loathing.

And then, she broke his gaze, sprinted down the entrance stairs and onto her bike, and pedaled out of sight.

Yamazaki stared at Syaoran.

"What?" Syaoran said angrily, suddenly snapping out of that odd trance he'd just been in, rubbing the cheek where he'd been slapped. "What nerve...that really hurt."

"Okay, you go around treating her like _that_ and you think it's the idea of a _bet_ that's going to make her break up with you?" Eriol said.

"Whatever," Syaoran said. "Anyway, I've just come to a conclusion. Yamazaki, you made this bet partially so I could meet someone I like, right?"

"Well...yes—"

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm not really enjoying myself here. The only reason I'm carrying on is because I want you to go to college, so why are you putting me through this?"

"Mainly for fun," Yamazaki grinned. But then he turned serious. "But you never know what could happen. Maybe it'll teach you a few things."

Syaoran just scoffed.

* * *

Sakura ran up to her room, taking the stairs two at a time, and collapsed onto her bed, tears blurring her vision. Of course, she'd taken insults before, but that was a direct hit at her pride. It was hard enough having to go out with him as it was, him being the irritable character that he was, but did he constantly have to hammer her down with such painful words?

She sighed to herself. _I don't know if I want to do this anymore._ It was getting harder and harder to deal with Syaoran's behavior.

She stared up at the ceiling, tears coursing steadily down either side of her face.

* * *

Shortly after the fiasco with Sakura, the three friends had gone back to Syaoran's house, grabbed snacks from the kitchen, and trekked across the house and up two stories to Syaoran's room, flopping down onto one of the sofas in the room.

"Syaoran, you have to learn some manners if you want this whole date thing to work out. Judging by the way Sakura's been acting towards you, she seems pretty sick of your rudeness," Eriol said firmly, "and frankly, I don't blame her. No girl deserves to be treated like that, not even a girl like her."

Syaoran glared at Eriol. "What rudeness? I'm perfectly fine with the way I treat her."

"You may be fine with it, but she's not."

Syaoran sighed. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Well, we could teach you etiquette and proper manners...and maybe a thing or two about that crazy, foreign thing called kindness," Eriol replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. (A/N: Thanks a bunch, chibiNeko192!)

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "You know what? Fine. Maybe if I find a girl who's actually worth dating without a bet to hold our relationship in place, this stuff will come in handy."

Yamazaki grinned and Eriol smiled. "Great," he said. "We start lessons tomorrow, then. One hour every day until the party after school."

"An _hour_? That'll cut into my training time!"

"Yours and mine, Syaoran. Don't forget I have things to do, too, but I'm not complaining," Eriol said flatly.

"Yeah, well it wasn't my suggestion anyway!" Syaoran replied angrily.

"Look, guys, why don't we...go up to the study and start on our homework? I don't like it when you two start arguing, you always pull me between you," Yamazaki said timidly.

Syaoran felt a rush of guilt, knowing that what Yamazaki said was the truth. "All right." Syaoran sort of nodded towards Eriol, indicating he was sorry; he was never one to really apologize verbally. Eriol nodded back, also apologizing.

The three climbed up another staircase to the comfortable and warm study, which was far better than the bitterly cold first floor. It had begun to snow outside just as they had come to Syaoran's house. About an hour into their homework, Yamazaki swore out loud, panicking. "I forgot my history textbook at school and I have to finish this essay...it's due tomorrow! God, the teacher's going to kill me with detentions!"

"Calm down. My history book is downstairs in my room, if you're willing to go and get it," Syaoran said, not looking up from his math homework.

"Thanks a lot!" Yamazaki said as he bounded out of the room and down the staircase.

He ran into Syaoran's room and spotted the stack of textbooks on Syaoran's large desk almost immediately. He sorted through them for history book and found it, but a paper was sticking out of the book. He came across a sketch in Syaoran's history book. _What's this?_ He thought to himself. He'd always liked Syaoran's drawings...

He pulled out the paper and his eyes widened when he saw Syaoran's picture of Sakura's smiling face on it.

* * *

Yay! Finish! Longest chapter I've ever done—twenty-three pages straight! Hope you guys enjoyed, please leave comments or suggestions and please review! And I love you all!

boreum dal


	4. Turns

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hello there—blah, almost a year since my last update...freshman year in high school was such a killer, who knew it would be so hard? I bet I've lost all my previous readers, which makes me really sad T-T But I hope the new readers like the story enough to keep coming back! Well, I hope everyone does enjoy this next chapter, and please keep checking back for updates, because I will try to update more quickly, now that summer's here. Enjoy!

**Chapter 4: **Turns

The doorbell rang once, twice, three times. Sakura jolted awake from her nap; she'd fallen asleep. For a moment, she forgot why she was even on her bed, as it was only 7:00 PM, but then she remembered what had happened earlier. The incident came rushing back into her mind like a great flood. She shook the thoughts out of her head for the time being and went downstairs to get the door. The moment she opened it, she was a bit bewildered_—_there was a girl whom she didn't recognize standing in the doorway.

With long, violet-black hair that shined as though diamonds were encrusted in each strand, a beautiful pale complexion, and mysterious, twinkling eyes, she looked like a celebrity, and Sakura had no idea what the girl was doing on her doorstep.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Sakura said, trying not to sound stupid.

The girl gave Sakura a sort of glare. "You don't even remember me?"

"Remember...what?"

"I'm your cousin...Tomoyo? My mother will be here later. Our house isn't ready yet, so we're staying here until it's completely finished. We've already arranged it with Uncle Fujitaka."

Sakura immediately felt her cheeks get hot. She felt like an idiot. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot!"

Tomoyo rolled her eyes and pushed her way into the house. "Whatever. I'm staying here for a couple of days because our house isn't ready yet. Do you think I could sleep in the living room?"

"You can sleep in my room, if you want," Sakura offered.

"I'd rather sleep in the living room," Tomoyo replied in a superior voice.

Sakura was baffled. The last time she saw Tomoyo, she was a very nice person and extremely polite. This Tomoyo was...the total opposite. "Um...sure," Sakura said weakly. "Let me help you with your bags." She reached out to grab one.

"Don't touch my things!" Tomoyo hollered hoarsely.

Sakura drew her hand back as though she'd been burned. She looked up, and surprisingly, Tomoyo's eyes were brimming with tears.

"Ah...sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just want to be left alone right now," she said to Sakura quietly.

Sakura, extremely confused, nodded and left the room.

* * *

"Yamazaki, what's taking you so long?" Syaoran yelled, making his way down the staircase and toward his room.

"Oh, nothing! I just couldn't find the book," Yamazaki hurriedly replied, stuffing the sketch back into another book. He grabbed the book and went to the door to meet Syaoran. "Let's go," he said as casually as possible. As they walked back up the stairs, curiosity tempted him to ask Syaoran about the drawing, but he held back. He did, however, imagine in his mind what he would ask Syaoran: _"Why do you treat her so badly if there's proof right here that you might already be falling for her?" _

* * *

Sakura fidgeted in her seat. She was in the same classroom with both Syaoran and Tomoyo, both of whom she currently had a very awkward relationship with.

Sakura had only spoken to Tomoyo once since the day before, and it was to invite her to Eriol's party on Friday. Tomoyo had originally refused. But at dinner that night, Fujitaka had mentioned the party to Sonomi, and Sonomi had begged Tomoyo to go and make friends until Tomoyo, tired of her mother's pleading, agreed to go.

Syaoran had unsurprisingly not spoken a word to Sakura all day. She'd caught him staring at her once or twice, but the expression on his face had always been one that looked like he'd just eaten something very bitter.

And, of course, kids all over Tomoeda High School were talking about Tomoyo. Whenever a new student arrived, he or she was usually discussed, but on top of being a new student, Tomoyo was beautiful. Already, boys were falling head over heels for her, and girls were envious of her.

Sakura sighed to herself as she doodled on her notebook. The class, it seemed, would never end_—_the more she wanted to leave the room because of Syaoran and Tomoyo's presences, the slower time seemed to pass by. And she was absolutely dreading the very idea of going to the party with Syaoran on Friday. She had no doubt that she'd make a complete fool out of herself...

_And in front of all of those popular kids, too..._

At least she wouldn't be alone_—_Tomoyo would be there_—_but what was the use in that when Tomoyo refused to even speak to anyone in the Kinomoto household except her mother? Also_—_

"Miss Kinomoto!"

Sakura immediately slammed her notebook shut and looked up. "Yes?"

"I called your name three times before you answered me! What are you doing that's keeping you so preoccupied that you can't even focus on your studies?" The teacher walked over to Sakura's desk and picked up her notebook, flipping through it until he reached the page that had been doodled all over. "Doodling?" He said in disgust, dropping the notebook back onto Sakura's desk. "So, you'd rather doodle than pay attention to my class?"

Sakura said nothing. The students around her were beginning to laugh, and she could feel both Syaoran's and Tomoyo's gazes fixed on her.

"Detention after school today, then."

"Yes, sir," Sakura replied quietly.

The teacher walked back to the board and continued on with his lecture.

Sakura sighed in frustration.

_This week really couldn't get any worse, could it?_

It could.

* * *

Sakura walked into the room where detention was being held and dropped her books on a desk. Without looking around to see who else had detention, she sat in the desk and waited for the teacher to arrive. She sighed to herself, wondering how she could land herself so many detentions in such little time. She'd never gotten many detentions before, and if she did, it was always for some more innocent reason_—_like being late_—_rather than a disruptive reason, like not paying attention in class and getting caught.

And then, she looked up, and at that moment, fate struck in the form of Syaoran Li.

Well, Syaoran Li's _friend_ was more like it.

Takashi Yamazaki, who Sakura knew was one of Syaoran's best friends, had also gotten a detention. She quickly looked down, trying to look inconspicuous.

Unfortunately, Yamazaki noticed her and grinned to himself. _This should be interesting_. Loudly, he set his book bag down on the desk right next to Sakura's and plopped down in the chair. "Hey there," he said to Sakura as soon as he sat down.

Sakura's face was an incredible shade of red. _Damn it! Why did he have to sit next to me? As if I don't have enough to deal with._ "H-hey," she replied in a slight whisper.

"My name's Takashi Yamazaki," he said pleasantly. "What's yours?" Though, he knew very well what her name was.

"Er...Sakura Kinomoto." _Just say as little as possible, and he'll get the message and leave me alone, _she thought desperately, but of course, she was wrong.

"Haven't I seen you before?" Yamazaki said, knowing he was basically gnawing away at her nerves.

"I'm not_—_I'm not really sure, probably not."

"No, no, I'm almost positive I have."

Sakura sat awkwardly in her chair, her hand on the side of her face as a (failing) attempt to cover it. "Probably just at lunch, I have the same_—_"

"Hey!" Yamazaki interrupted loudly, thoroughly enjoying himself now. "I know where I've seen you! You're the girl who slapped Syaoran yesterday!"

Sakura buried her head in her arms. Her voice came out muffled. "I was hoping that you would forget that."

"Forget someone slapping Syaoran? No way," he said. "I'm one of his best friends, and even I can't do that. That was pretty brave of you. To tell you the truth, I think he sort of deserved it," he laughed. "He can be a jerk sometimes. I apologize on his behalf."

Sakura shook her head. "That's okay. You're not the one who said it..."

Yamazaki nodded. "Are you ready for the party on Friday?"

Sakura made a face. "I don't think I'll ever be ready, I really don't want to go."

Yamazaki was a bit surprised. A lot of girls would give anything to go to such a party. Just as he was about to mention this, the teacher walked in, effectively silencing everyone in the room.

Sakura looked at the clock. The seconds ticked by more slowly than usual.

_This, _she thought wearily, _is going to be a long afternoon._

* * *

"I still don't understand why we couldn't have done this at my house," Syaoran grumbled as he shuffled along a dark hallway, following Eriol to his bedroom. "And where the hell is Yamazaki?"

"I told you already, Syaoran," Eriol replied exasperatedly, "that we're doing this at my house because it's closer to the school, and Yamazaki got a detention."

"Kid has no discipline..." Syaoran muttered.

"Look who's talking. We're here for a reason, you know," Eriol grinned.

"Whatever, let's get started."

And so, Eriol led Syaoran through the basics of how to treat a girl correctly at a dinner, at a party, and on various dates. It took about twice as long to go through the entire thing, though, because Syaoran constantly had problems with courtesy.

By the end of it, Eriol was relieved to have gotten through the entire session.

"I'm glad you're taking these lessons, because you seriously need them. I can't believe that you actually made Sakura pay for her part of the dinner on you first date. That's one of the worst things you can do!"

Syaoran shrugged. "Hey, she had the money."

Eriol sighed. "This is exactly why you are coming back tomorrow to have another lesson."

So, things went on like this throughout the week_—_of course, there was much grumbling on Syaoran's part and teasing on Yamazaki's part along the way, in addition to Eriol's seemingly never ending supply of optimism. Syaoran, a fast learner, had dinner etiquette, manners, and politeness down perfectly by Thursday afternoon.

"The party is tomorrow. Are you ready for it?" Eriol asked Syaoran after their last lesson.

"I think I am," he replied. However, he didn't have much interest in all of it_—_being polite and acting kindly, that is. "We'll see."

* * *

Friday was going by far too quickly for Sakura. She was dreading the party more than anything. She still had no idea as to how she would even get there for several reasons: she didn't know where Eriol's house even was; her father had suddenly been called in to work late for the next few days, so she had no ride; and she had no idea how to get ready for the party.

And she'd rather not have gone anyway, considering how Syaoran was a big jerk and all.

She was hoping that these reasons were good enough to get her out of going, but she turned out to be wrong. During lunch, Syaoran surprisingly offered her a ride there, contrary to what he said about meeting him at the doors last Sunday.

"Well, that's very nice of you, but I don't even know what to do with my hair or my clothes, so maybe I shouldn't go altogether," Sakura said, knowing how stupid this sounded.

"Just pull yourself together. You'll think of something," Syaoran replied, not unkindly.

As he turned around and walked back to his table, Sakura stared at him bewilderedly. How could he be such a jerk one moment and then be normal and kind and polite the next? _He must have a personality disorder,_ she concluded to herself.

She wasn't looking forward to the car ride, either, though. She'd be stuck in a car with both Tomoyo and Syaoran, and she wasn't on very good terms with either of them.

* * *

"Arghhh!" Sakura groaned to herself as she stood in front of her dresser mirror, desperately trying to fix her hair into something a little more attractive than the plain style it was always in. Her clothes weren't even picked out yet; she was standing around in a T-shirt and pajama pants. Syaoran had called a little earlier to say he was coming to pick her up in an hour. She had absolutely no idea what to do.

"This is hopeless," she mumbled as she sank to the floor, holding her head in her hands in a frustrated manner. Suddenly, she heard someone knock on the open door, and, thinking it was her brother, she turned around. She gasped.

It was Tomoyo, and, if it was even possible, she looked even more beautiful than before. She was fully dressed for the party in a pink miniskirt and a knit sweater, wearing a colorful scarf and makeup that made her face look radiant. Her hair was down and voluminous, slightly curled at the ends.

"Yes?" Sakura said a little stiffly.

Tomoyo walked in timidly. "I, uh...I came to apologize. I've been rather unkind lately, and that's really not who I am. I just miss Tokyo, that's all. I had everything there, and it's sort of difficult, having to start over."

The awkwardness melted immediately.

Sakura smiled. "Well, that's all right. And you'll be popular here in no time! You're already such a big hit with all of the students and everything..."

Tomoyo shook her head. "They wouldn't make real friends, though, and you know that."

"Well, I suppose that's true...I'm sorry my father told your mother about that party. If you really didn't feel like going, it was fine."

"Oh, it's okay. Maybe it would be good for me to go and see if there really are a few people who are a little genuine around here."

Sakura scoffed. "I doubt it," she laughed.

Tomoyo smiled until she noticed the mess on Sakura's dresser: bottles of hair spray, various brushes, clips, a straightener, and a curling iron were scattered across the surface. "Do you need help getting ready?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"I would definitely appreciate that. I just can't really figure any of this out," she said a little sheepishly.

"That's fine. I can help you. How long do we have?" Tomoyo asked, suddenly sounding all-business.

"About forty-five minutes."

"Well, let's get started, then!"

* * *

Sakura checked her watch nervously, pacing around the room. _He's not here yet._ _It has been exactly twenty minutes since the time he was supposed to pick me up, and he's not here yet. _She hated this. She always got so nervous before she saw him, but what was there to be nervous about?

She felt a little better than before, though. She'd told Tomoyo all about the situation with Syaoran, and she discovered that Tomoyo had a boyfriend as well as a good talent for pep talk.

"He's really attractive, though," Sakura had said to her. "Feel free to like him_—_everyone else does_—_haven't you seen him in class?"

"Oh, I haven't really paid attention to the people around me in class. And I couldn't possibly 'feel free,' because I have a boyfriend back in Tokyo," she'd replied, smiling.

Surprised, Sakura had asked her what that was like. Tomoyo told her all about him, and he sounded like everything that Syaoran wasn't: _consistently_ nice, polite, and considerate. Sakura had mused that the only things that he and Syaoran seemed to have in common were athletic ability and attractiveness.

Then, Tomoyo had gone on to encourage Sakura to great heights about the date, but all of her confidence had since then fallen again.

Anxiously, Sakura checked her reflection for the fiftieth time, but this time, she really took a good look. Tomoyo really changed a lot when she'd helped her out...

And when Sakura thought "a lot," she meant a lot.

The most major change was probably her hair. Before, it was long_—_down to her waist_—_and she usually wore it in a long, loose braid or a ponytail. She really did like her hair; it was her only feature that she actually sort of appreciated. Tomoyo, however, didn't like it as much as Sakura did: she chopped it off.

When Sakura thought about it, it wasn't that short, but it was ridiculously short compared to how much hair she used to have. As she looked in the mirror, she saw that it rested just above her shoulders now, and it was straighter. Tomoyo had insisted that Sakura leave it down, so she did. After that, Tomoyo had cut the front of her hair into side bangs, which now rested on the side of her face, just close enough to graze the corner of her eye. Sakura initially thought it was annoying, but Tomoyo thought it was pretty; and once Tomoyo thought something looked good, it was left alone. Sakura had had no say in her makeover—not that she was complaining.

Tomoyo wouldn't let Sakura wear any of the clothes she had. Tomoyo was a skilled seamstress, and she ended up giving Sakura an outfit that she made as an early Christmas present. It was a pretty outfit, Sakura thought, but it was made more to grace people like Tomoyo, rather than people like herself.

And no matter what Sakura had said about makeup making her look like a clown, Tomoyo absolutely wouldn't let her leave the room without any, and she ended up putting on just a little...but when she looked in the mirror for the first time, she was really surprised. It looked...clean.

But, of course, it wasn't perfect. She still felt immensely simple compared to Tomoyo, and underneath the makeup and the shorter, straighter hair and the pretty dress, anyone could clearly see that she was still plain Sakura Kinomoto. She was positive that no one would fall for the change, and personally, she still thought she looked like a big geek.

So ultimately, Sakura felt that Tomoyo had not made her beautiful, although she had done a miracle of a job in cleaning her up. She wished Tomoyo could have made her beautiful, but things like that only happened in the movies, and unfortunately, Sakura didn't live in a movie. But she was satisfied; she looked far better than she ever had before. Asking for anything more would have been selfish.

* * *

Syaoran walked up to the Kinomotos' front steps and knocked twice on the door.

From within the house, Sakura asked Tomoyo to answer the door for a second, because she was still trying to get her nerves together.

As Tomoyo opened the door, Syaoran opened his mouth to make an apology about being late, thinking that it was Sakura, but he saw that the girl who answered the door wasn't Sakura.

Naturally, he was surprised. For a second, he thought stupidly that it really _was _Sakura, but she'd been made-over. "Er...I'm sorry, did I get the wrong house?" Syaoran asked.

Tomoyo instantly saw why Sakura was so intimidated at the whole thought of a date with Syaoran.

By the way he was dressed and the car parked in the driveway, Tomoyo could tell that he was at least a bit higher than middle-class. He dressed in a clean-cut manner_—_a light green polo and khakis, and his car was a sleek black hard-top convertible. On top of all of that, his features could have easily made him some kind of model. His hair was so untidy that it made up for the neatness of his clothing, but the messiness of it fit his face; his eyes, almost identical to the color of his hair, were dark brown with a sort of fire in them.

Sakura was right: she _had _seen him around before. His looks didn't have much of an effect on her, though. She'd seen her share of attractive boys in the streets of Tokyo, and to her, no one was quite as attractive to her as her boyfriend.

"No, this is the right house," Tomoyo answered, smiling. "You must be Syaoran Li. I'm Sakura's cousin, Tomoyo. Sakura's still getting her...stuff together, so you can come in for a moment." She opened the door wider.

Syaoran stepped in, thinking, _Sakura really wasn't lying when she said that her cousin was gorgeous. _He looked around. The house was very cozy and tiny, but extremely well-organized and well-kept; the polar opposite of his own cold, huge mansion. Tomoyo led him into the hallway, whispering so Sakura wouldn't hear, "She's in her room. She should be out in a second."

Syaoran peeked through the crack in the doorway and caught a glimpse. Something was different, he thought.

A minute later, Sakura opened the door, looking at anything but Syaoran. Her palms were sweaty. If it was even possible, she was more nervous than last time. She stood timidly in a pale blue-and-white dress, the skirt ending a few inches above her knees and the chest ruffled. There were no sleeves or straps, and Sakura said she'd never worn anything that revealing—if one could call the dress revealing—before, so Tomoyo had provided her a white sweater to go over the dress.

Syaoran was surprised even more than when Tomoyo had opened the door. It was like the last date, when he'd seen her smile: Sakura wasn't quite beautiful, but she was pretty. She still had the clumsy, quiet aura about her, but she was—he felt like a jerk thinking it, but she was actually passable as an attractive person now. She wasn't strikingly gorgeous like her cousin, or perfectly made-up like Mai and the girls in her entourage, but it was an improvement. Of course, he didn't say anything about this. He simply waved to her, then silently led the two girls out of the Kinomoto house and to the car. He held the front passenger door open for Sakura, but she took the back seat with Tomoyo. Syaoran raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything.

The car ride, as Sakura had suspected it would be, was awkward. Syaoran said nothing, Tomoyo said nothing, and Sakura _definitely_ said nothing. By the time they got to the party, Sakura was so on edge that she was actually relieved to get out of the car and into the building.

Eriol's house was nice, to say the least. Technically, it was a mansion, but it had two lofty towers, one on each side of the house, which gave it the feel of a castle. The party, as Syaoran said it wouldn't, had not started yet. They were there to help set up.

Sakura let out a barely audible gasp as she walked into the foyer of Eriol's house. Syaoran, who had been standing right next to her, smiled a little as he heard her. He'd forgotten that she probably hadn't been around this kind of grandeur before. Their footsteps echoed on the pale marble floor as Syaoran led them across the foyer and down into a gigantic underground room, where there was a bar, a pool table, and a movie-screen television on the wall, among other things.

"Hey, Eriol, we're here," Syaoran called.

A door slammed somewhere and footsteps could be heard. In a few seconds, Eriol appeared in another doorway of the room, dressed in jeans and a dark blue polo.

"Hey, Syaoran," he said cheerfully. In either of his hands, he held bags that were filled with plastic cups, plastic trays, and napkins. He set the bags down next to the door and walked over to Sakura and Tomoyo, shaking their hands. "Sakura, right?" He said to her over the rim of his glasses.

Sakura nodded. "Nice to meet you," she said, not feeling much resentment towards him as she did Syaoran. Eriol wasn't one of the guys who made fun of her; and while Syaoran didn't make fun of her, either, at least Eriol wasn't a jerk.

"My name is Tomoyo Daidouji," Tomoyo introduced herself to Eriol. "It's nice to meet you."

"Eriol Hiiragizawa," he said as he casually shook her hand. Syaoran, however, had known Eriol long enough to see a hint of infatuation in his friend's face, and he grinned to himself. The two walked away to get everything ready for the party, leaving Sakura and Tomoyo to sit down and talk.

* * *

The two boys, as they set up the refreshments table on the floor above, quietly spoke to each other.

"Who _is_ she?" Eriol asked, shaking his head.

"Sakura's cousin," Syaoran replied.

"Wow...they're related?" Eriol asked, some disbelief in his voice.

"I know, that's sort of what I'd thought, too," Syaoran said a little quietly. He felt guilt creep into his mind as he said those words, but it was the truth. He tried to make up for it, anyway. "But Sakura doesn't look that bad tonight."

"Well, she doesn't, but she doesn't even compare to her cousin. Jeez, not even Mai or Meiling could compare to her."

"Okay, before you start kissing her feet, what do you even know about her?" Syaoran said, amused. Then he got serious. "I mean...hypothetically, let's say that she and you went out. What if she turned out to be...I don't know, rude or mean or bossy?"

"I know, but face it. I'm superficial, so what can I say?" Eriol said lightheartedly. In truth, he wasn't superficial at all; but Tomoyo was absolutely gorgeous, and she'd seemed all right enough, judging by the...ten or so words she'd said to him. _Okay, maybe I _am _a little superficial._

"I just don't want you to get obsessed with her, only to be disappointed in the end."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that a girl like her is bound to have a boyfriend."

"She just moved here."

"So? Long-distance relationships exist, you know."

"Do you not want me to try or something?" Eriol asked, sounding peeved.

"I just want you to be careful," Syaoran replied sincerely. "Honest."

"All right, _Mom_, I'll be careful," Eriol said, laughing. All the anger in his voice was gone.

The doorbell rang. "That must be Yamazaki," Syaoran said. "I'll get it."

* * *

The party started an hour later, and more and more people came until Eriol's castle-mansion was filled with three-quarters of the school. Yamazaki, who was the deejay for the party, had already been introduced to both Tomoyo and Sakura (whom he grinned slyly to, remembering the chaotic detention session). He was playing music from an indoor balcony on the second floor that overlooked the main hall of the first floor.

The doorbell rang for what seemed like the millionth time that night. Eriol ran to get it, and unsurprisingly, Mai, Meiling, Chiharu, and Naoko had all arrived_—_fashionably late, of course. "Hey," Eriol welcomed them, "join the party."

Mai flashed a classic smile and strode into the house, which was booming with music and conversation.

In awhile, everyone was up and dancing except for Sakura and Syaoran_—_Sakura was too timid, and Syaoran hated dancing. Tomoyo, however, was dead-set on setting the two up, and dragged both of them to the dance floor, despite protests from both sides.

"Tomoyo, I don't want to dance!" Sakura objected, but she couldn't help but smile. She appreciated Tomoyo's efforts.

Tomoyo stood the two side by side, and simply said, "Dance."

Syaoran gave her a glare, but caught Yamazaki staring nearby, and began to dance in a stilted fashion. Sakura was surprised, but she began to dance, too, and Tomoyo smiled and walked away.

As much as he hated to admit it, he almost liked dancing, even if he wasn't a very good dancer. He'd been staring at the ground the entire time, but when he looked up, he saw that Sakura was dancing_—_and she was dancing _well. _He gawked at her. She definitely wasn't someone he expected to be able to dance.

"This is weird," Syaoran muttered as they danced together. This was the first time Sakura had outshined him in anything; while her dance moves fit the beat of the music perfectly, Syaoran stepped awkwardly backward and forward, not knowing what to do. Sakura attempted to suppress a giggle, but she was too late.

"What are you laughing at?" Syaoran snarled.

She smiled; for once, she wasn't offended. "I just never thought you to be someone who doesn't know how to dance."

"I can dance!" Syaoran said; then, realizing how stupid he sounded, shook his head and laughed. "No...never mind, I can't dance."

Surprising both herself and Syaoran, Sakura put her hands on his shoulders to stop him from moving around so much. "Watch me," she said confidently.

_Where did I get this courage from?_ she wondered to herself briefly.

"You don't just step back and forth. You have to get into the music. Once you do, your body sort of just moves itself. Unless you've taken lessons or practiced or something, you're not going to be able to dance like a pro immediately, but it won't look as awkward. Just enjoy yourself. Got it?" She smiled, and Syaoran slightly smiled back as he fell into step.

"See? You're doing it." Sakura laughed, and they danced, not noticing who was watching.

* * *

This was definitely not how Syaoran thought the night would go. He was really having fun. It was...weird, which was the only word he'd been able to use to describe everything that had happened so far.

This burst of confidence Sakura suddenly had—it surprised him to say, but he thought it to be even more attractive than anything a physical makeover could do.

* * *

From afar, Mai watched Sakura and Syaoran with a scowl on her face. She pushed her way through the crowd, her clique close behind. "What is this? This isn't the way the bet is supposed to go," she muttered, getting closer and closer towards the pair. Just as she was about to reach them, she abruptly turned to Naoko. "Go get a glass of punch and dump it on Syaoran's shirt."

Naoko looked carefully at Syaoran's dancing figure. "But...it's _Syaoran Li_," Naoko said, obviously terrified. "And why would I want to ruin his shirt?"

Mai rolled her eyes. "Look, Naoko, I don't care how much homework you do for me. If you don't do this, you're out."

Naoko looked down at her feet. "But why do I have to do it?"

"You'll see. Besides, he won't get angry at you. He's having too much of a good time dancing." The scowl returned to Mai's face.

Naoko sighed and did as told. As Mai had predicted, Syaoran didn't get angry. "It's all right," he said to Naoko, whom he didn't know well enough to know that she was part of Mai's clique. "I'm just gonna go ask Eriol for another shirt," he said to Sakura, and went off to find Eriol.

Sakura, feeling awkward without someone to dance with, went to go sit down. Before she could, however, Mai pounced, leaving her clique behind.

"Kinomoto," Mai nodded, striding over next to her, and began to dance.

Sakura stood uncomfortably next to her, starting to dance again. "Hey, Mai."

"Having a good time?"

"Actually, yeah, it's pretty fun." Sakura smiled timidly. Maybe Mai was about to make up...?

"Hm. Well, it's always fun for the oblivious ones."

"What?" Sakura narrowed her eyes a bit.

"Obviously, you don't realize that you look like an idiot when you dance."

Sakura immediately looked at the floor. "I didn't think that I was a bad dancer," she mumbled.

Mai laughed mockingly. "Repeat that for me?"

Sakura closed her eyes. Somewhere in the past few minutes, she'd proven to herself, and to Syaoran, that she had some sort of confidence somewhere inside of her. It couldn't possibly have run out already, right? "I said I didn't think that I was a bad dancer. I've been dancing for a long time, Mai. And I'm not scared to say that you're one to talk."

"Excuse me?" Mai gasped, glaring at Sakura with a glare that could have frozen hell over.

"That's...that's right," Sakura said, starting to back down. _I guess my confidence isn't any match for Mai..._

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Mai pushed Sakura on the shoulder, causing her to stumble back a bit. People around them quit dancing and began to watch. "Have you forgotten that you're an absolute _loser_, Kinomoto? Nobody cares about people like you. Actually, I take that back. There's no one else like you in the school, because you're the worst one of them all...so you don't even relate to the geeks. You dress like you can't even see what you're wearing, you act like a total drip, and you're so weird-looking that you shouldn't even bother trying to fit in. The only reason Syaoran is even going out with you is because he feels sorry for you. So don't even _try _to insult me. Don't even think about it. I hold all the cards here." She shoved Sakura back so hard this time that she fell onto the floor. By now, the music had stopped and everyone was watching.

Sakura stayed on the floor for a moment, the subject of everyone's attention, as she bit her lip, fully comprehending what had just happened. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes_—_angry tears, the same kind she'd felt in the past entire week_—_but unwilling to cry in front of Mai, she pushed through the crowd and out of the mansion. The heavy front door slammed, the noise echoing throughout the room.

As Mai had pushed Sakura, three voices had carried out at the same time among the silence: Syaoran's, Tomoyo's, and Eriol's. Syaoran's was the loudest.

"What the hell are you doing, Mai?" Syaoran said, walking towards her. "I leave for two seconds, and you go and start picking a fight with my date?"

Mai didn't say anything; Syaoran was obviously angry.

He opened his mouth to say more, but then he closed it. He looked around for a second and caught Yamazaki's eye. Then, he looked back at Mai. "You're not worth my time," he said.

Mai merely smirked as though she knew something that he did not.

He walked over to Eriol, who was standing nearby. "Take Sakura's cousin home for me, okay?"

Eriol nodded as Syaoran made his way to the front door.

* * *

Syaoran ran onto the driveway and looked around for a few moments before he spotted Sakura, who was sitting on the curb under a streetlight, her head in her hands.

"Sakura, don't listen to her_—_"

He stopped as he arrived next to her_—_her shoulders were shaking as she sobbed into her hands. He scratched his head. He really didn't know what to do. _Great, now what?_ He sat down next to her and sighed.

"I heard about half of what she said. A lot of it isn't true, you know," he said. He found himself meaning it; after seeing Sakura so confident, he wasn't sure that he felt so negatively towards her anymore.

"Don't lie to me," Sakura managed to get out as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Huh?"

"You don't mean any of that. I don't—I don't even know what got into me tonight. Mai's right_—_I'm just a nobody."

There was a pause that seemed to last a lifetime. And then...

"Goddamn it, Sakura!" Syaoran yelled, so loudly that his voice could've woken up anyone who lived nearby. He stood up and began pacing around the street.

Sakura jumped, surprised and scared.

"You don't_—_you don't get it, do you?" He said, glaring at her. "When you were in there, when you were teaching me to dance, it was_—_" he paused for a moment. _I'm not going to say it...am I? _"It was awesome. You were like this whole new person! When you were like that, with all of that confidence...you were _beautiful_." He didn't stop, but he couldn't look at her as he spoke. "The reason why people tell you you're a nobody is because you act like one! If you were always like the way you were at the party tonight...hell, you'd be one of the most popular kids in school, I swear. So quit being a nobody, Sakura, when you have the potential to be somebody amazing."

Sakura looked up at him, unable to believe what she'd heard.

"God, you piss me off," he muttered. He stopped pacing and looked down at her. "You hungry? I didn't eat anything at the party. I'm starving."

She sat for a moment, dazed by the sudden change, and then she nodded, still not believing what had just happened.

"Get in the car. We're gonna go get something to eat. Don't worry about Tomoyo, either. Eriol said he'd take her home."

Sakura got into the passenger seat of the car, everything fully sinking in. She smiled to herself, but then she frowned a bit. Things were finally starting to work out, but what would happen if Syaoran found out about the bet?

* * *

This chapter took me so long to finish...I started it around CHRISTMAS, I think. I had to keep changing my author's note intro to fit with the time! As I said, I'll definitely try to keep updating. I hope this chapter wasn't too long? I was thinking about writing shorter chapters to update more frequently...what do you guys think? Bleh, the more I write this, the more I feel like it's a cliche movie...I'm trying to add in my own twists and turns, but I dunno. Hopefully, the next chapter will be better. Anyway, thanks for reading, please review!

-Franny


	5. A Kiss

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everyone! Wow...it's been yet ANOTHER year since I last updated. I don't think I'll have readers after this anymore --; I'm really, really sorry. You guys have no idea how sorry I am. Even though it's no great excuse, it is, as always, because of school. School this year was ridiculous...every night was a late night or an all-nighter. I'm pretty sure I got an average of 3 hours of sleep a night this year.

...but that's over now, because SUMMER'S HERE 8D I'll try to update this thing a little more. I have some really good ideas for it! Enjoy!

_**Italics in the story **__**usually**__** represent the thoughts of the characters. **_

**Chapter 5: **A Kiss

_Did he really mean it, that I'm beautiful?_ Sakura looked over at Syaoran, whose eyes were focused on the road. The car revved very smoothly underneath them as they went along. _Dear God, don't tell me I'm starting to actually like him a little. _She shook her head. No way would she ever like him. He was too much of a jerk.

"So, what do you want to eat?" Syaoran didn't take his eyes off the road as he spoke, but one of his hands left the wheel to grab his cell phone.

"Well, what's open right now?" Sakura looked at the clock. It was already 10:00 PM.

"Oh, right. It's sort of late for any restaurants, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there is one place I know that's always open, but it's not really fancy or anything. I don't know if you'd like it."

Sakura shook her head. "I'm satisfied with anywhere, really. I think after the party, anywhere is good for me." She laughed shakily.

Syaoran let out a loud exhale. "I'm sorry I took you there. I should have known Mai would've tried to start something."

"It's not your fault. I think you made it better. It was fun teaching you how to dance," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Syaoran let out a chuckle. "Yeah, that was...interesting. So...you don't care if the place we go isn't very fancy?"

Sakura shook her head no, then looked out her window. It was nice, that Syaoran had seemed to undergo a change of heart. But she was tense. _How long will it last? I don't know if I could take it if he did another one-eighty on me._

So far, though, things seemed to be running pretty smoothly.

* * *

Eriol poured two glasses of punch and walked over to Tomoyo, who was sitting down on the side. The commotion had gone down a little, and everyone was back to dancing. Mai had left—or, rather, been kindly asked to leave—almost immediately after Sakura and Syaoran had left.

_Syaoran walked over to Eriol, who was standing nearby. "Take Sakura's cousin home for me, okay?" Eriol nodded as Syaoran made his way to the front door._

_Yamazaki had stopped the music. Everyone was standing around, just waiting to see what would happen next. _

_Eriol stood where he was for a moment, then walked over to a somewhat shocked Mai. In a very calm, quiet voice, he said, "I don't appreciate people who come to my party and try to start trouble. There's no need for any of that."_

_Some people around in the crowd jeered, and Eriol gave them all one silencing glare. He turned back to Mai. "I wouldn't have cared so much if it were anyone else you were messing with. But Sakura is my best friend's date, whether you like that or not. I think it'd be best if you left."_

_Mai looked furious, and she opened her mouth to say something. However, she almost immediately closed it, and grinned instead. "All right, I get it. But Kinomoto as Syaoran's _date_? You think that shit's serious? You're a little dumber than I thought you were, Eriol. You guys, let's go." _

_And with that, Mai and her entourage left the house, leaving Eriol—and everyone else—to wonder what she meant about Syaoran and Sakura._

_Eriol just shook his head and sighed. "Whatever," he muttered to himself. He looked up at Yamazaki, still up on the balcony, looking confused as to what had just happened. "Yamazaki, why'd you stop the music?" Eriol looked at everyone else. "Let's get back to dancing, shall we?"_

_Yamazaki started the music, and, with a cheer, everyone began dancing again. _

"Your punch," Eriol offered Tomoyo her glass as he sat down beside her.

"Thanks." Tomoyo smiled and sipped the punch. For a little while, they watched in silence as the others danced, and then she suddenly turned to Eriol. "Why does that girl have a problem with Sakura?"

Eriol shook his head. "I don't know. High school works out in funny ways. Were you popular at your old school?"

Tomoyo made a face. "I guess, yeah. But what's that got to do with anything?"

"Well...the thing is, Sakura's never been popular. She's always been...not necessarily a _dork,_ but that's how a lot of people see her." Eriol's tone was apologetic as he said this.

Still, this didn't prevent Tomoyo's death glare. "_Why?_ What has she ever done to make people hate her? She's sweet and kind, and—"

"And she never sticks up for herself. You've got to understand, high school might not be the same around here...or you might just not get it because you've never been in her situation before."

"Oh, and you have?"

Eriol sighed. _I can't believe I'm arguing with this girl. There go my chances of asking her out._ "No. But I grew up watching it happen to her. Since middle school, things have been tough for her. A lot of these people are like sharks. They'll get onto her about anything and everything, just because they know they have the power to. Syaoran's an ass to her too, sometimes, but...well, Syaoran's just an ass to everyone." He laughed.

Tomoyo sipped more punch and stared silently at the dancers for another moment before speaking. "If Sakura's not gonna do anything about it...well, I will. I'll do something about it. Nobody picks on my cousin and gets away with it."

"I didn't know you guys were that close," Eriol mused.

Tomoyo had a guilty look on her face as she responded. "Well, we're not." Her expression changed to one of determination. "But I've been awful to her lately. It's time I made up for it."

Eriol said nothing, but he nodded in approval. Then, after another awkward moment of silence, "So, do you want me to take you home?"

A new song played in the background. Tomoyo's face suddenly broke into a grin. "Are you kidding? This is my favorite song. Dance with me!" She stood up and held her hand out to Eriol.

Eriol blushed and shook his head. "I—I can't, I—" _What the hell are you doing? _

Tomoyo rolled her eyes and grabbed Eriol's hands, pulling him up. "Come on!"

Eriol shook his head and laughed. "Okay, okay. I have to warn you, though, I'm an awesome dancer. See if you can keep up with me."

"Oh, we'll see who needs to keep up!" Tomoyo ran out to the dance floor, and, forgetting all about the events of that evening, Eriol followed her.

* * *

"Damn," Syaoran muttered as they pulled up to a dark building. "Wait here a moment," he said, and got out of the car, slamming the door in the process. Sakura winced at the sound.

She watched him walk around the building, which looked like it had been abandoned for some time now. Through the windows of the car, his movements made him look like the star of a silent film. He walked back towards the car after a moment and got in.

"So...what's going on?" Sakura asked, curious.

"It closed down," he said incredulously, looking at the dashboard. "This used to be my favorite restaurant, and it closed down."

Sakura frowned. "Wouldn't you have known?"

Syaoran ran a hand through his hair, his expression guilty. "I should have. I knew the owner...he was like a father to me. But it's been a long time since I've been here...two or three years, actually. I feel bad. I don't even know where that man is now, or how he's doing, or if he's well."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he muttered.

"But all the same, I am sorry. It doesn't have to be my fault for me to feel compassion, you know." Sakura shut her mouth before she could say more. _What is going on with me tonight?_ She wouldn't have said half of these things on a normal day; they required too much courage.

Syaoran turned the keys in the ignition. The car smoothly revved to life, so quietly that Sakura could barely tell it had turned on. He sat there for a moment in silence, taking in what she said. Then, very softly, "Thanks."

Sakura looked out of her window to hide her surprise. _I guess I'm not the only one who's a little out of character tonight._

As Syaoran drove down the now empty streets—it was almost midnight—he spoke slowly, planning things out aloud. "So...here's what we'll do. We'll stop by an all-night restaurant somewhere and get something to go...and then we'll just go to my house and eat."

Sakura felt panic rush through her. His _house? _That was out of the question! People who dated each other _seriously_ went to each others' houses. People who hated each others' guts, but for some ridiculous, unknown reason, dated each other anyway, did not, absolutely _not_, go to each others' houses! "Wh-what?"

"I said that we'll go to my house and eat."

"Why can't we just eat at the restaurant?"

"Have you ever _been_ to one of those places this late at night? The strangest people are there when it's late. It's not safe."

"But...well..."

Syaoran looked at her exasperatedly. "If you're going to be a baby about it, then you can stay at the restaurant and I'll go home."

Sakura shook her head. "Okay, okay, I'll go with you," she said angrily. Maybe it was the dark, but right after that, she could've sworn she saw Syaoran's lips pull into a grin.

* * *

"Well...this is my house," Syaoran said, and they both got out of the car. Sakura had thought she'd seen everything when she saw Eriol's house, but Syaoran's house was, if possible, even bigger. Her jaw dropped ever so slightly.

Syaoran looked at her and grinned. "I'm going to assume that's a good reaction." He grabbed the bags of food out of the car and led her inside. As soon as he opened the door, a blast of warm air greeted them, much to the pleasure of Sakura's freezing legs—a short skirt hadn't been the best idea after all.

"Hmm...guess Mother turned the heater on for once," Syaoran murmured. He turned around to Sakura. "My mother's not home right now. We can go eat in the dining room. Does that sound okay?"

Sakura nodded, speechless at the beauty and size of Syaoran's house, as well as the fact that he had managed to go most of the night without too many insults.

She stepped into the foyer, taking off her shoes, and followed Syaoran through the entrance room of the house, her bare feet cold against the marble floor. Looking to the left and right, she saw large, professional portraits of Syaoran at various ages; the many awards he'd accumulated through martial arts and school shone brilliantly on built-in shelves along the walls.

They entered a long, dark corridor lined with several closed doors. The light from the entrance room steadily got dimmer and dimmer until, for a few moments, they were immersed in total darkness. Sakura instinctively moved closer to Syaoran, who smirked as he heard her footsteps speed up. "Don't worry, there aren't any monsters in my house," he teased.

"I hate the dark," Sakura whispered.

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "How do you manage to sleep at night, then? Don't be a wimp."

Sakura stopped walking for a moment, surprised by the rude comment after his earlier kindness. _Well, at least things are a bit more normal. He was scaring me, being so nice like that all night, _she thought.

Syaoran stopped as well. "Something wrong?" he asked without turning around.

"No, nothing." Sakura hurried her pace once more as she saw light at the end of the corridor.

Syaoran shrugged and led the rest of the way until they stepped into a bright, well-lit ballroom. Sakura looked at the room in awe; the grandeur of Syaoran's house had not yet failed to amaze her. She looked at Syaoran, who, surprisingly, looked rather embarrassed.

"Sorry my house is so big. It's a pain in the ass, I know," he mumbled.

"Oh, not at all...I'm just at a loss for words. I've never been in such a big house," Sakura said, and her voice echoed loudly throughout the large room. She looked up at the ceiling, which had a mural painted on it, much like the castles in old fairy tales did. A large, crystal chandelier hung from the center of the mural. The floor, like that of the entrance room, was made of marble; large, uncovered windows surrounded the room, showing the dark sky outside.

Syaoran's stomach suddenly growled loudly. "Er...yeah...I'm really hungry," he said sheepishly.

Sakura tried not to laugh. "It's all right. The dining room can't be that far away, right?"

"Well...to be honest..." Syaoran was actually blushing! Sakura had never heard of people getting embarrassed because their house was too _big_. "We're in the central wing right now...the dining room is at the farthest end of the west wing...so it would take a few more dark hallways to get there. It's really impractical, but that's the way Mother wanted the house to be built." He had a peeved expression on his face.

Sakura's eyes were so wide that they nearly made full circles. "Your house...your house is that big?"

"Well...I'm not going to lie to you, so yeah, it is. Sorry about that."

"I mean, it's nothing to apologize for. But...wow! So how long would it take to walk from one end of the house to another?"

"If it's on one floor, then it would take...maybe a minute or so. But if you're coming from one end of an upper floor to another end of a lower floor, then it would probably take three minutes at the most."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not. And a lot of it is because of this damn ballroom. I told Mother that no one nowadays needs a ballroom in their house when we got this house built, but she just ignored me and built one three times the size of a normal ballroom...damn it, let's just eat in here. Is that okay with you?"

Sakura nodded, speechless. She followed him to the center of the floor and copied his motions, plopping down onto the cold marble, minding her skirt. Syaoran dug through the bag, pulling out several cartons of Chinese takeout and placing them all in a neat arrangement between himself and Sakura. He handed Sakura a pair of chopsticks and a carton of rice. "Eat," he instructed, and then dug in himself, forgetting all of the table manners Eriol had taught him. He was hungry. Manners took too long. He couldn't wait for manners, plain and simple.

There was something else in the plastic bag that Syaoran hadn't taken out, Sakura noticed, but she decided not to prod. She picked apart her chopsticks and opened her carton, preparing to eat, pausing for a moment to look up at Syaoran. She nearly dropped her carton in shock.

It was fascinating, how much food he could consume in a matter of seconds. Already, a good fourth of the rice in his carton was gone, and the cartons of sides—the noodles, sweet and sour chicken, beef and broccoli—you name it, Syaoran had already managed to get some into his mouth.

"You—you weren't kidding when you said you were hungry," Sakura said, her food still untouched. She handed him one of the two water bottles that lay off to the side. "Drink some water, so you don't choke."

"Thanks," Syaoran said after swallowing all his food. He drank half the bottle in one gulp and set it down, then went straight back to his carton. He looked up for a moment over the top of his carton to see Sakura still staring at him, then hurried to swallow again. "What?"

"You—how can you—half of your carton of rice is gone already! It's been about three minutes since we sat down!"

"Your point?"

"I just...how do you _eat_ so much?"

Syaoran set down his carton and picked up a styrofoam cup of soup, taking small sips. He shrugged. "I always eat this much. Just not usually this quickly. You haven't even touched your food yet, so quit gawking and start eating."

Just on time, Sakura's stomach grumbled loudly. She blushed, embarrassed, and ate several bites of rice. Syaoran watched her over his cup of soup as she picked at the side dishes set in front of her and slowly chewed everything before swallowing. It was almost agonizing to watch, she ate so slowly. But still—

_Table manners._

_Shit._ He'd forgotten. _All of that training with Eriol gone to waste._ But then again, why did he care?

Oh, right. His best friend's entire future was riding on a month-long relationship with the girl sitting in front of him. Well, maybe _she_ wouldn't care...

"Hey, um...I was really hungry, so I sort of forgot my table manners when I was eating...you probably noticed and all. You don't, um...you don't care or anything, right?"

Sakura looked up from her carton of rice, somewhat bewildered. _Syaoran is acting so weird tonight!_ "Well, not really...we're not even at a table, after all. We're sitting on the floor, eating Chinese takeout," she said rather bluntly.

Syaoran looked at her for a moment, somewhat surprised, and then, to Sakura's further bewilderment, started laughing. Nervously, she laughed, too, until she began to laugh harder and both their laughs filled the echoing ballroom with noise. Tears were rising to her eyes, but she had no idea what she was laughing so hard about. "Wh-what's so funny?" She managed to say between giggles.

Syaoran finally stopped laughing, and, wiping his own eyes, replied, "I don't know. This entire evening has just been a complete screw-up. This was supposed to be a good date, and everything we've tried has pretty much blown up in our faces...and here we are, like you said, sitting on the floor, eating Chinese takeout." He picked his carton of rice back up without looking at Sakura and began to eat what remained, this time a bit more slowly.

Sakura smiled a little, but then she frowned. "But this _was_ a good date," she mumbled quietly.

Syaoran scoffed. "You don't have to lie to me, you know. It's not like I care that much whether the date was lousy or not." Strangely enough, he felt himself not completely meaning that last part. He shoveled rice into his mouth.

"But I'm not lying! This was one of the best Fridays I've ever had, really."

"But the party...and you know, having to eat here..."

"I don't mind any of that. The party...well, yeah, the party was a disaster," Sakura said, laughing a bit forcefully. "But we had fun there while it lasted, didn't we?"

"I guess."

"Okay, well _I _had fun...and I think I prefer this, eating with you on the floor, over any party or a fancy restaurant." Sakura looked quickly back at her food to avoid any oncoming insults that Syaoran was about to throw in reply.

So of course, she was rather surprised when she heard Syaoran grunt in response. Well, that was better than nothing. She smiled as she ate.

After this, they ate in silence, until Syaoran asked if she wanted her soup. Sakura shook her head no and handed it to him, laughing a little. He'd eaten his entire carton of rice, while she still had half left and felt full.

"You know," Syaoran said quietly, in between sips, "you _are_ sort of right. It's weird, that we ended up here instead of dancing at Eriol's party, but...I don't know. I kind of like this. And...I haven't laughed like that in a long time," he confessed.

Sakura felt her stomach do flips. _Quit it,_ she told herself. _No matter what he says now, he'll go back to being a jerk, guaranteed._ "Well, I'm glad that I made you laugh," she responded.

"Don't flatter yourself. It wasn't you. It was just...this whole situation," Syaoran said, finishing off the cup of soup.

Sakura brushed off the insult; she'd been expecting it for some time now. In fact, she'd have been worried if Syaoran had kept being so nice all night. But there was something different tonight, she observed; he was being a jerk, that was true— but he seemed to be vacillating between being a jerk and an actual nice person. It was...odd. She almost got a headache thinking about it. She set her carton down. "Well, I'm done. That was really good. Thanks, Syaoran."

Syaoran nodded. "Don't go telling people that I ate all of this stuff with you, though."

Sakura felt hurt. _We're dating—he almost kissed me in front of the entire cafeteria—and he doesn't want people to know that I was eating with him at his house?_ "Oh...okay."

Syaoran detected the hurt in Sakura's expression and rolled his eyes. "It's not because I don't want to be seen with you, you dimwit. I just get on to my friends about eating junk food all the time, and Chinese takeout isn't necessarily the healthiest thing in the world, you know? Unlike pizza and hamburgers, though, it's actually good. But they would never let it go if they found out, so don't tell people, okay?"

Sakura was surprised for about the billionth time tonight at Syaoran's behavior; not only had he just told her—although somewhat inadvertently—that he didn't mind being seen with her, but he had also just confided to her something that even his best friends didn't know. "Um...of course."

"Good." Syaoran turned around and grabbed whatever remained out of the plastic bag, concealing it from Sakura. Then, he turned around and held out both of his fists. "Pick one," he said.

Sakura felt her stomach flip over again. _He must _definitely_ have a personality disorder._ "Left," she said.

Syaoran opened his left fist and revealed a chocolate kiss, its silver wrapping gleaming in the bright lighting of the ballroom. He grinned. "I hope you like chocolate." In his own right hand was another piece of chocolate in red wrapping, which he immediately unwrapped and popped in his mouth.

Sakura smiled and nodded. "Thank you." She took it and pocketed it.

Syaoran frowned. "You're not gonna eat it? Give it back, then," he said, feeling somewhat insulted.

Sakura laughed. "No, it's not like that! I just want to save it."

Syaoran made a face. "For what?"

"I don't know...I told you tonight was one of the best Fridays I've ever had. This would make a good souvenir."

"Ha! If you'd told me you wanted a souvenir, I could've bought you something that wouldn't melt!"

"Well, this is more meaningful anyway," Sakura said softly. "You bought the chocolate out of your own free will—not because I asked you to. I really appreciate that."

Syaoran looked at her for a moment, then looked down and grabbed some of the empty cartons between them, stuffing them into the plastic bag as trash. "You're weird," he mumbled.

* * *

"Nice car," Tomoyo observed as they walked out to Eriol's driveway. The party wasn't over yet, but Eriol had left the caretaking to some friends, as Tomoyo had decided that it was about time to go home.

"Thanks," Eriol said, and the BMW opened with two beeps.

Tomoyo yawned. "I'm so tired. Tonight was fun! I have to admit, you're a pretty formidable opponent when it comes to dancing," she said with a grin as she sidled into the passenger seat.

Eriol laughed. "You, too," he replied, starting the car and backing out of the driveway.

"So...what kind of music do you have in here?" Tomoyo asked, looking at a case of CDs sitting in one of the side pockets. "Mind if I look?"

"No, go ahead."

Tomoyo opened up the case and found many artists that she liked, ranging from classical, to rock, to hip-hop, to...

"New age music?" Tomoyo looked at Eriol skeptically.

"It's soothing," Eriol said defensively. "A guy needs stress relievers."

"Well, let's test it out, then," Tomoyo said, and put one of the new age CDs into Eriol's CD player. The CD whirred in the player for a second, and then a quiet but powerful melody played softly from the speakers. An unearthly, beautiful voice accompanied the various instruments that made the music.

Tomoyo was impressed. "This _is_ pretty soothing."

"I told you," Eriol laughed.

Tomoyo smiled, too, turning the music up slightly louder. She looked at the clock—it was already 12:30 AM. "Wow, the party should be almost over, huh?"

"Er...well, Syaoran sort of lied to Sakura about what time the party was over. The truth is, my house is so big that a lot of people feel free to stay the night, so the party doesn't usually end till early in the morning. He was just going to take her home at 1 so her father would let her go to the party, but...well, that's not a problem anymore, because they left a lot earlier than that." He laughed.

"I wonder where they went," Tomoyo mused.

"Well, if she's not home by the time we get to her house, then they must be having a decent time. Syaoran would've taken her home immediately if she'd asked to go home."

"That's nice of him."

"Yeah, he's a good guy. He just hates showing it."

Tomoyo directed Eriol to Sakura's house, and pretty soon, they pulled up to the driveway. Sakura's window was dark.

"She'd have stayed up waiting for me," Tomoyo thought out loud. "I guess she really _is _having a decent time...my makeover must have worked!" she exclaimed, starry-eyed.

Eriol laughed. "And I did teach Syaoran etiquette over the past week. Hopefully, that helped, too."

Tomoyo turned to Eriol and smiled. "Thanks for everything tonight, Eriol. It was really fun meeting you and dancing."

"No problem," Eriol said. He was glad it was dark. For some reason or another, he was blushing like a maniac.

And then, very suddenly, Tomoyo leaned over and kissed Eriol on the cheek and stepped out of the car. He stayed still, shocked for a moment, and then managed to gather up his wits. He rolled down the window and called out Tomoyo's name.

"Yes?" She turned around and walked back to the open window.

"So...this was fun, and uh...do you want to go out with coffee for me sometime?"

"Um...sorry, what?" Tomoyo laughed.

"Oh, sorry. I meant—do you want to out with me for coffee sometime?"

Tomoyo looked down, then back at Eriol with an apologetic look on her face. "Eriol, I'm...really sorry. You're a great guy and all, sweet and cute and funny—but I have a boyfriend, back in Tokyo."

"Ah." Eriol's mouth wasn't working properly all of a sudden. Although, his foot seemed to increase in activity; it was urging to press the pedal and drive away as fast as possible. He could've sworn she was flirting with him the entire night, though...but he had known. Syaoran had told him about the boyfriend, and Eriol had been too cocky to realize that, no matter how badly he wanted her, he could not have her.

He smiled a bit forcefully and looked at Tomoyo. "It's all right. Thank you for your company. I had a good time." He winked and sped away.

"Eriol Hiiragizawa," Tomoyo said the name very slowly, watching Eriol's car drive off into the night. "Maybe..." She shook her head and smiled, turning around to go inside.

* * *

A clock chimed loudly somewhere in Syaoran's house, making Sakura jump and let out a small scream. Syaoran nearly spat out the water he was drinking at the sight. He quickly swallowed and laughed, making Sakura blush furiously. "It wasn't that funny," she muttered.

"Sorry," Syaoran said, still smiling a little. "It's just odd that you get scared at the smallest things."

Before Sakura could protest, Syaoran stood up; Sakura followed.

_I'm gonna need more than just dinner and a botched date to impress Yamazaki,_ Syaoran thought to himself. He looked at the balcony doors that led outside from the ballroom and got an idea. "Hey," he said, turning to Sakura. "Want to go outside for a little bit?"

"Uh...sure." Sakura was beyond confused for the night, so she just went along with everything without question; she was too tired to be curious anymore.

She followed him across the ballroom and out the doors, into a large garden with walkways and benches sitting between plot after plot of various flowers. At the center of the garden was a circle of different trees, all of them quite bare because of the weather; but all the same, it was beautiful. He walked past all that onto a grassy hill that overlooked the whole of Tomoeda, the city lights bright in the darkness. He sat down on the hill, leaning back on his hands. Sakura sat down carefully next to him, unsure of what to expect. It was chilly, but the sight was gorgeous and worth taking a seat to look at.

"So...I kind of wanted to ask you something," Sakura said very timidly. Asking Syaoran if he wanted to go on another date was not the easiest thing to do, no matter how nice he was being.

"Sure."

"Um...well, you see—" _One more date. Just one more date, and then you're home free._ "I sort of wanted to know..." _But what if he finds out? No guy—not even Syaoran—deserves to learn that a girl asked him out based on a bet. _"Haha, this is difficult." _Maybe I should just tell him about the bet..._

"Spit it out, would you?"

_Then again, maybe not. _"Do you want to go...on another date?"

Syaoran was surprised. He'd actually been planning to ask Sakura, but it had slipped his mind; he hadn't expected Sakura, of all people, to have the courage to ask him on another date. "Um...yeah, sure."

Sakura had been preparing for imminent rejection and had been running through counterarguments in her mind, but as she opened her mouth to protest, the meaning of Syaoran's response fully reached her brain. "Wh-what?"

"Yeah, I'll go on another date with you."

"Really?"

"Yes! Is it that difficult to understand?"

"Well, yeah, actually—" Sakura covered her mouth. "Forget I said that. When do you want to go?"

Syaoran looked at her suspiciously for a moment, then cocked his head, thinking. "Well...we get out for winter break on Monday...okay, does Wednesday night sound good?"

Sakura thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Wednesday's no good. I'm helping my cousin move into her new house."

"Oh, Tomoyo?"

"Right."

"Okay, then. One week from now, then—Friday, I guess?"

"Yeah, Friday's good," Sakura nodded. She suddenly laughed a little.

"What?" Syaoran looked irked. Why did she have to laugh at everything?

"I think this is one of the first things we've ever agreed on."

Syaoran laughed, too. "Wow, you're right."

Without thinking anything of it, Sakura said, "We're becoming more like a couple than I thought we would."

_Couple._

The word echoed in Syaoran's mind. He'd only known Sakura for a little over a week, and so far, she had been more of a nuisance than anything. She was so weak-willed and obedient that it drove him crazy. He hated people who couldn't stand up for themselves. _And those huge, creepy eyes..._the thing that had guilt-tripped him into accepting her request in the first place. Well, that and Yamazaki's challenge.

And yet, there was something that had changed, ever so slightly, since last week. Then again, he'd gotten to know her a little better in the past week; when he went on the first date with her, he'd known nothing about her. She had been almost one-dimensional to him. So, of course, tonight's date had taught him a lot about her. It was still difficult to analyze someone who said so little, but he took comfort in knowing that she had more backbone than he'd initially thought. He wouldn't admit it to Sakura—or anyone, for that matter—but he'd actually had a lot of fun on this date. The dance was fun, getting dinner and eating with her, albeit in a room that he hated, was fun.

_She'd_ been fun.

Tonight's Sakura was different from the usual Sakura. Sure, she was still annoying and agonizingly boneless, not to mention too quiet and too timid and too strange, among other things, but Syaoran had meant what he'd said. She'd shown confidence for those few minutes at the dance, and it had made her beautiful, stunning, interesting, captivating. That confidence, Syaoran concluded, couldn't have come from nowhere. _I wonder if that's the way she is when she's more comfortable in her surroundings_, he thought. As weird as it was, he didn't mind the thought of another date with her, not so much.

Not to mention, whatever she'd done to get ready for the evening didn't hurt. All that hair that she'd kept braided or in a bun had been cut, making her look her age, rather than twice her age, and the dress she wore accentuated her figure much more nicely than the baggy uniform she wore to school.

Syaoran looked over at her as she continued to admire the scenery, not noticing his gaze. The lighting of the cityscape hit her face in just the right places, and in this setting, her eyes didn't look so creepy; in fact, they looked kind of nice. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and her breath came out in visible puffs. She looked...well, she looked pretty—not Mai pretty, or Tomoyo pretty, or movie star pretty...just...different—a good different.

And now, as they sat together on the hill behind his house, enjoying the sight before them in comfortable silence, he found himself almost embracing her presence. In the beginning of the evening, he'd much rather have been hanging out with his friends, or attending the party dateless, or even practicing martial arts...but now, he almost liked being here—hell, he _did _like being here. His own personality didn't allow for him to ignore her flaws, but he enjoyed the good points of her character.

So what bothered him so much about that word, "couple"?

"_Couple"...couple would mean attachment. I can't get attached. It's too risky in this sort of situation. _Both of them would get hurt, and what was the good in that? _Just help Yamazaki get to college, move on. _But...could he seriously get attached to Sakura? She was, after all, Sakura. No matter how much she improved, would he ever see her as girlfriend material? But it was still a possibility. _A person is capable of getting attached to anybody, if the right things happen. _Syaoran exhaled. _Right. No strings. No couple. Nothing beyond this one month...and definitely no attachments._

"Say, Syaoran—"

"I should take you home. It's late."

Sakura looked surprised. "Oh, okay, then." She stood up.

Without a word, Syaoran led the way out of the garden and back to the ballroom, walking more swiftly than usual.

"Syaoran, is something wrong?" Sakura frowned. He had such unusual mood swings.

"Nothing's wrong," he said gruffly.

"You seemed a lot happier a moment ago, so I just—"

"NOTHING'S WRONG, I SAID!" He stopped and wheeled around, half of his body indoors and half not quite yet. "If I say something, then I mean it, so just leave it alone! God, do you know how annoying you can be?"

Sakura bit her lip and tried as hard as she could to hold his gaze (well, it was more of a glare), but to no avail. She looked at her feet, a bad habit she'd had since she was little. "I, um...sorry," she whispered. She ran inside and across the gigantic ballroom, disappearing into the darkness of the corridor.

Syaoran put a hand to his head. _Maybe I said a little more than I should have._ He knew that what he'd done had been a bit unnecessary...okay, maybe more than unnecessary...but he was in no mood to apologize; most of his rifts with Sakura tended to end that way. He took a deep breath and walked inside, across the ballroom and into the corridor.

When he got outside, Sakura was leaning against his car, her shoulders sagging. He sighed, expecting tears, but to his surprise, he saw none. They got into the car in silence. The silence continued as he drove, and it was maddening. For once, he found himself wishing he had a car that made too much noise while it drove. Anything to fill the emptiness between them. He looked over at Sakura for a brief moment. Her head was leaning against the window, and her eyes were closed. Maybe she was sleeping? He kept his mouth shut.

Two minutes later, he couldn't stand it. He gave in. "You awake?"

Sakura nodded, her eyes still closed.

"Why won't you open your eyes?"

Sakura didn't say anything.

"Talk, damn it!" Syaoran was getting frustrated. No way was he going to apologize now.

"To tell you the truth, I'm trying not to cry...but I don't think it's working." Sakura opened her eyes and tried to laugh, but it only came out halfway, and before she knew it, she was crying. As much as she tried to stop the tears, it wasn't working out too well. And, despite what she kept telling her body, the tears were accompanied by sobs that she consistently tried to hold back with little success.

Syaoran, surprised, had no idea what to do. He didn't expect her to cry _now._ Why couldn't she just cry when he'd anticipated it? He sighed and pulled over, turning off the ignition. He sat without saying anything. Well, he'd gotten his wish; the emptiness between them was now filled with a noise—Sakura's quiet sobs.

"I'm sorry," Sakura managed to get out after several minutes.

Syaoran looked at her, still sheepish but also bewildered. "For what?"

"I already cried once today in front of you...I didn't want to make things uncomfortable." She forced a smile onto her face. "You're right. Maybe I should stop asking so many questions all the time."

Syaoran took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then, "I can't believe you're _apologizing._ To _me._"

Sakura was baffled. "What?"

He looked out at the sky from the windshield, shaking his head. "Do you not have any social skills? If I say something like that to you, you have a right to be angry! You're _supposed _to cry—hell, you could throw a tantrum, slap me across the face! Most girls would! What I said was completely uncalled for! You don't agree with me and apologize, you argue with me and you get angry at me for being rude! That's what normal people do, Sakura. They get angry. You can get angry at me. You _should _be angry at me!" He groaned. "I can't believe I have to _tell_ you all of this."

Sakura didn't know what to say. "Oh," she managed. "So...I don't have to try to stop it?"

Syaoran almost laughed. "No, you idiot."

Sakura laughed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. "I don't know why I'm still crying," she said. "I guess I'm just surprised—"

Syaoran turned to look at her. She was still trying to stop crying, even after he'd just spent the past minute and a half explaining that she didn't have to, and before he knew what he was doing, he reached across the car and pulled her to him, hugging her tightly and effectively stopping her tears. "You're so damn stubborn," he said softly. "I just told you that you didn't have to stop."

Sakura could hardly breathe, she was so surprised. She slid her arms around him, hugging him back. "Thank you."

* * *

"Well, thank you for everything," Sakura said as they pulled up to her driveway. "I had a lot of fun tonight, even if you didn't." She smiled.

"Yeah," Syaoran said. He wouldn't admit that he had fun, too. That was going a little overboard. _Why the hell did I hug her?_ He kept thinking to himself. "I should walk you to your door." At least all of the manners he'd learned from Eriol hadn't been in vain.

"That's all right. It's already 1:30. You should go home and sleep." On impulse, Sakura laid her hand on top of his for a moment. "I'm really glad I came out with you tonight." Then, shaking her head, she stepped out of the car. _Was...was that me? Did I just do that? _She walked more quickly towards her door.

She walked to her father's room and knocked on the door. She hoped her father wouldn't be angry for coming home past curfew.

"Come in," Fujitaka's voice came from the other side.

"I'm home," Sakura said, walking in the room and sitting on the armchair he used for reading. Her father was sitting at his desk, still working. "I know I'm late, and I'm sorry, but—"

"It's fine. Tomoyo explained to me about your going out for dinner, and she said you'd probably be back a little later than expected." Fujitaka turned around and smiled. "Did you have fun?"

_Going out for dinner?_ Sakura made a note to herself to thank Tomoyo for covering for her. "I did."

"Well, that's what's important. I'm glad you got out of the house for a little while. You should get some sleep."

"All right. Good night, Otou-san." Sakura kissed her father on the cheek and went up to her room, where Tomoyo was in bed, reading.

"Sakura! How'd everything go?" She looked up from her book. Even in a nightgown and no makeup, Tomoyo still looked flawless.

"It was interesting," Sakura smiled. She suddenly remembered the kiss in her pocket and took it out, setting it on her bedside table.

"Well, tell me everything!" Tomoyo sat up, an impish grin on her face.

* * *

After seeing that she got in safely, Syaoran drove back to his house, took a shower, and got in bed. After everything that happened tonight, he was beat. As he lay in bed, his mind kept playing back what had happened in the car. Over and over, he scolded himself for the hug. If that wasn't a sign of attachment, what was?

* * *

And that concludes chapter five! I can't believe, after two years with this story, I only have five chapters -.-; That just goes to show you what a procrastinator I am. Hopefully, I'll be able to update more next year...I doubt I'll be any less busier than I am, but I'll try to set aside more of my free time for writing. I hope that chapter wasn't too fluffy! Maybe I should've inserted a fluff warning pre-chapter...

Anyhow, **sorry if Syaoran seemed a little out of character. **I want to show that he's changing a little, but I want him to retain some of that in-your-face attitude he has XD And I want to show changes in Sakura as well, so she probably said some things in this chapter that she wouldn't normally say.

Hope you enjoyed, please review! Till next time-

boreum dal


	6. Loopholes

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hello! Wow, I'm actually updating not only within the same YEAR, but within the same month! That's definitely a new record for me. Thanks for all the great reviews; all of them made me smile! I love your reactions to the events of the chapters; some of the reviews even made me laugh, haha. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

**Chapter 6: **Loopholes

"He gave you a hug? Just like that?" Tomoyo asked before popping a piece of candy into her mouth.

"Yeah...he really did," Sakura responded, unwrapping a piece of candy herself. She glanced at the clock and sighed. It was two in the morning, and she wasn't even tired yet. Normally, she'd be in bed by eight, but the entire date had just been so...uncanny. The last thing she could think of right now was sleeping.

She and Tomoyo had spent the evening talking after Sakura had gotten home, and now Sakura was recounting her date in full detail—at Tomoyo's request, of course.

"That's so...wow. That's really...romantic," Tomoyo said, looking like a model as she put a hand to her chin in thought.

"Romantic?" Sakura stuck the candy in her mouth and wrinkled her nose. "I don't know if romantic is the word for it...more like _confusing._"

Tomoyo giggled. "Boys can be like that. But...well, it sounds like you two are getting closer. I mean, before the party, you were telling me you couldn't stand him."

Sakura hugged her knees to her chest. "And I couldn't. But now..." She sighed. "He gives me a headache. I don't like thinking about him."

Tomoyo stared at Sakura for a moment, her eyes narrowed in thought. Then, grinning slightly to herself, she set the bowl of candy down on the floor and stood up and stretched. "Well, it's getting late. We should sleep," she said suddenly.

Sakura looked up, surprised at the abruptness. "All right." She turned off the lamp next to the bed and got under the covers. "Good night, Tomoyo."

"'Night, Sakura."

Sakura lay awake for another two hours, listening to Tomoyo's steady breathing, until finally, she fell into a restless, uneasy sleep.

* * *

Syaoran's eyes opened to darkness, and he sat up and looked around, dazed. He saw his digital alarm clock glowing by his bed; it was only 6:30 AM. He sighed and flopped back down onto his pillow, pulling the blanket back over him. He didn't understand why he'd suddenly woken up; he usually slept so soundly. Closing his eyes, he attempted to fall asleep again...

But twenty minutes later, he knew it wasn't going to happen. Sighing, he got back up and rubbed his eyes. _Waking up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning...what a waste._ And he'd only gotten a little less than five hours of sleep, really.

But he was wide awake now, and there was no point in trying to sleep again. Getting out of bed, he went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, then changed into his training clothes and made his way towards the training grounds, planning on getting some practice in before breakfast.

Since high school demanded a lot more time than elementary and middle school had, Syaoran had some difficulty balancing a competitive martial arts schedule and his school schedule. And he was itching for some competition; he hadn't competed in a good three months, and the rush he felt when he competed was something he lived for. Thankfully, his next tournament was coming up soon, a couple weeks after Christmas break ended. This would be his toughest tournament yet, as he would be competing with some of the best martial artists in all of Asia.

Clow Reed, who had been steadily teaching him more advanced techniques over the past few months, had taken a break for a couple of weeks, so Syaoran had been training on his own. But Clow was due back any day now, and then Syaoran would be training harder than ever for his tournament.

Trying not to make too much noise, he walked downstairs and across the house, stopping by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, and stepped out onto the training grounds, breathing in the fresh air and trying not to shiver. It was getting colder every day; it would probably start snowing within the week.

After warming up, Syaoran started practicing sparring techniques, engaging himself in a complicated series of kicks and punches and jumps and back flips, his mind focused solely on his imaginary enemy. Pretty soon, he'd forgotten the cold and, surprisingly enough, he hadn't thought of the date with Sakura very much at all, only for a few fleeting moments...

_But why would I expect__ myself to think of her, anyway—shit._ Already, before it happened, he knew it was going to happen—the thought had occurred to him in the middle of a complicated jump kick, and, rather than landing directly into a somersault, he, as expected, landed flat on his back instead. Seething, he smacked the ground with his hand and sat up, rubbing his head. This was the third time something like this had happened—all because of Sakura!

He held his head in his hands. "What is this coming to?" He muttered to himself, then wiped the sweat off his brow and checked his watch. He'd been working for a good hour or so, anyway, so he stood up and walked inside.

"Good morning, Master Li," a voice called from the kitchen.

Syaoran walked over to the kitchen, grabbing an apple out of the refrigerator in the process. "'Morning, Wei," Syaoran said, sitting down at the counter, where Wei was making coffee. Although the Li family housed a complete live-in staff of maids, butlers, cooks, and caretakers, Wei had established a more personal relationship with the family as a longtime friend as well as Syaoran's personal caretaker; as a result, he had become something of a father figure to the family. He was usually up the earliest out of the entire staff, so it was not uncommon to see him in the kitchen so early in the morning.

"It's Saturday morning. Why are you up so early?" Wei said, pouring coffee into a mug and handing Syaoran a glass of orange juice.

"I don't know, actually. I just couldn't sleep," Syaoran said, taking the glass of orange juice and biting into the apple.

"But you came in rather late last night, if I remember correctly."

"Oh, you were awake? I thought everyone was asleep already...and Mother is on that two-day business trip, so I didn't think I'd get caught by anyone..."

Wei chuckled. "I was the only one awake, so everything is fine."

Syaoran grinned and sipped his orange juice. "I spent most of the evening at the house, actually. I just had to take my date home."

"A date?" Wei raised his eyebrows. "I thought you hate going on dates."

"I do," Syaoran said, smiling slightly. "But...well, this one's a bit complicated."

Wei shook his head and laughed. "I won't ask any questions."

Syaoran finished up his orange juice and smiled. "Thanks, Wei. I'm gonna go take a shower and go out for awhile...don't expect me back until evening."

"Have fun, Master Li."

* * *

"Tomoyo, I can't afford any of this!" Sakura protested as Tomoyo practically threw Sakura into a dressing room, tossing some clothes in with her.

Tomoyo had woken Sakura up early, telling her that they needed to go shopping—for what reason, Sakura had no idea. She'd asked, too, but Tomoyo's answer was incoherent...she'd muttered something about "shopping withdrawals" and forced Sakura onto the bus that took them to the mall, then proceeded to drag her into expensive stores that Sakura had never even set foot in before, making her try on all sorts of clothes.

"That doesn't matter, just try on the clothes!" Tomoyo urged from the other side of the door.

Sighing, Sakura pulled the shirt she was wearing over her head and tried on the one Tomoyo had sent her in with—a frilly yellow blouse with too many buttons to count—and looked in the mirror, only to be horrified by her reflection.

"Did you put it on yet?" Tomoyo asked.

"Um...Tomoyo...I don't think—"

"Open the door! Let me see!"

Sakura opened the door of the dressing room a crack and poked her head out, blushing. "Tomoyo, this looks hideous on me—" But before she could say anymore, Tomoyo flung the door open all the way, and Sakura yelped and nearly fell to the ground.

"It's so _cute!_" Tomoyo squealed, holding up a camera and taking pictures of a very obviously embarrassed Sakura.

"Tomoyo, this just isn't me," Sakura finally managed to say, blinded from the flashes of the camera.

Tomoyo stopped taking pictures and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well...I mean, not to hurt your feelings...but I think this looks awful."

Tomoyo giggled. "Well, there are plenty of other clothes in the store. It's okay. But maybe I should get a good idea of what you like before throwing some clothes on you."

Sakura sighed in relief and nodded. "Just keep in mind that frills just don't work on me, and I think we'll be okay."

Tomoyo laughed and nodded, picking out more suitable clothes for Sakura and shoving her back into the dressing room.

Twenty minutes later, the two girls walked out of the store, Sakura holding three large bags full of clothes. "Tomoyo, how am I going to explain this to my father?" Sakura hissed, holding up the bags of clothes. "All of this costs more than my entire wardrobe combined!"

Tomoyo waved her hand, as though she were shooing Sakura's protests away. "My mother told me I could take you shopping. You don't have to worry about it."

Sakura looked down. "But still, I feel bad..."

"Well, think of it this way—now you have a lot more clothing choices for your next date."

"My next date? What's that got to do with this?"

Tomoyo hurriedly put her hands up in the air and shook them. "Nothing, nothing! It was just...a perk of buying new clothes, that's all. Hey, it's lunch time. Let's go grab something to eat."

Sakura sighed and followed the ever-energetic Tomoyo off to the food court. _How does she manage to go from ice-cold to makeover artist extraordinaire to compulsive buyer, all in one week?_

* * *

Syaoran kicked a pebble as he made his way down the sidewalk, Yamazaki chattering away beside him. He was recounting all of the details from yesterday's party, but Syaoran was only half-listening; high school drama didn't interest him that much, although he himself tended to play a big part in it, due to his social status.

"Oh, God, you should've seen the way some of those people were dancing!" Yamazaki concluded, laughing at the memory.

Syaoran smiled in response, but his mind was somewhere else. Since he'd left the house, memories of the date had come back and bombarded all of his thoughts, no matter what he'd done to try to think of something else. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't given her that hug. Now he had to worry about...he sighed.

_Attachment._ He'd gone over it again and again in his head, wondering what had compelled him to do something so stupid after he'd so thoroughly thought of reasons _not _to get attached. He just needed some time away from her. After that, he could go back to cool, _de_tached Syaoran again.

"So, what did you do after you left?" Yamazaki said, finally noticing Syaoran's silence.

"Huh? Oh. Nothing, really...we got food and went back to my house, and then I took her home."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—you took her to your _house_?"

"Yeah, what's so crazy about that?"

Yamazaki shook his head. "Nothing, for normal guys—but you're weird and it would just be unusual and kind of oddly..._personal_ for you to take a girl to your house. Especially one you don't even like that much."

As if on cue, Syaoran gave Yamazaki a well-earned slap on the back of his head. "Who's weird?" Syaoran said, walking along as though nothing had happened, while Yamazaki cried out and stopped walking to rub his head.

"Ow! God, you're too sensitive...it was just a joke..." Yamazaki ran to catch up with Syaoran.

"Anyway, it's not that 'personal,' or whatever you want to call it. It was getting late, and I don't like staying out late in random places. There are too many weird people out late at night. So we went back to my house, and we ate. That was it."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like much of a relationship to me."

Syaoran resisted the urge to punch Yamazaki. "Nothing satisfies you, does it?"

"Nope," Yamazaki agreed smugly.

"You just expressed amazement that I took her to my house. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Not really, since you explained it to me as no big deal."

Syaoran ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Okay, well...I mean...we talked."

"Small talk doesn't count as relationship material, you know."

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "You idiot. I mean we _talked_ talked. She even made me laugh at one point. It was kind of...weird." Syaoran stuck his hands in his pockets, wondering if he should tell Yamazaki about the hug. He knew that it would be more than enough to make Yamazaki get off his back, but...

It seemed too private, somehow. He'd feel uncomfortable about it...as though it would count as bragging.

So he kept quiet about the hug, and, surprisingly enough, Yamazaki reluctantly took what Syaoran had offered as "relationship material."

"Okay, okay, you win," Yamazaki said, sighing. "But college is gonna be such a pain in the ass...I really hope you don't win the entire bet."

Syaoran smirked. "_You're_ a pain in the ass. Let's go watch a movie."

* * *

"There aren't that many good movies out right now," Tomoyo thought out loud, looking up at the gigantic list of movies playing in the theater that connected to the mall.

"Well, there's one you're forgetting," Sakura replied.

"Which one?"

Sakura pointed to a movie poster off to the side with the title _Wishing Well_ printed in large letters on it. It was the latest romance starring two of Japan's most famous actors.

"Oh, I didn't even see that one on the list! I forgot that it came out yesterday... We should go watch that," Tomoyo said enthusiastically. (Her favorite actor played a major role in the movie, as well.) She stepped up to the ticket booth. "Two tickets for _Wishing Well_ at 3:30, please."

Sakura handed Tomoyo money for her ticket, but Tomoyo swatted Sakura's hand away. "I'm treating you today."

Sakura was about to protest when all of a sudden, she gasped, looking as though she'd seen a ghost.

"What is it?" Tomoyo turned around, two tickets in her hand.

"S-Syaoran is here!" Sakura pointed over to the far end of the lobby, where Syaoran and Yamazaki had just entered. Just as she was preparing to run away, Tomoyo grabbed her hand and held her back. "What are you doing?" Sakura hissed. "I have to get out of here before he sees me!"

Tomoyo laughed. "Sakura, we're not in middle school anymore. Don't be a wimp!"

"Funny, you're starting to sound like Syaoran," Sakura muttered. "Maybe _you_ should go out with him instead."

"Syaoran! Over here!" Tomoyo called, waving them over and ignoring Sakura's protests.

Sakura watched in horror as Syaoran stopped walking—he'd _clearly_ been walking towards another ticket booth, but Tomoyo's big mouth had caught his attention—and turned around to walk their way. She put one hand to her head and groaned. _So much for a fun afternoon. This is really going to get awkward._

"Tomoyo, Sakura." Syaoran nodded to each of them in acknowledgement.

Sakura nodded, not meeting his eyes. The previous evening had been such a confusing mixture of anger, hurt, surprise, fun, and, oddly enough, some pleasantness, that she didn't know if her brain could handle another day with him. _This whole multiple-personality thing he's got going on is too tiring for me to figure out._

Sakura had been generally tuning out of Tomoyo's conversation with Syaoran and Yamazaki, but her mind went back into the conversation as soon as she heard her name.

"So, since I have to get Eriol a thank-you gift for inviting me to his party, and _you_ know Sakura better than Yamazaki does, and _Yamazaki_ knows what kinds of things Eriol likes, it all works out! You can watch the movie with Sakura, Syaoran!" Tomoyo squealed, looking expectantly at Syaoran and beaming at her plan.

"Wait, _what?_" Sakura and Syaoran both said at the same time, with the emphasis on the same word. Syaoran took a moment to glare at Sakura, as if this was all her fault. Sakura tried to glare back, but it didn't quite work out; Syaoran, like Mai, had an unrivaled knack for effective death glares...so she ended up staring at her feet, instead, as usual. But still...he had no right to be angry at her—it wasn't like she _wanted_ this to happen, and she was just as surprised as he was!

"Tomoyo, what are you talking about?" Sakura asked her cousin softly, her palms starting to sweat. "Please don't tell me you're doing what I think you're doing."

"What's there to worry about? Yamazaki will come with me to buy Eriol a good thank-you gift, and I can just give Syaoran here my ticket, and he can go to the movie with you instead, since I know you wouldn't want to see it alone."

"Well, I mean...I _don't _want to see it alone, but I want to see it with you!"

Tomoyo pulled Sakura aside. "Excuse me for a moment," she said to the two boys, who were now rather baffled as to what was going to happen next. "Sakura," she whispered hurriedly, "this might count as your third date, and then it'll all be over!" Of course, Tomoyo was lying through her teeth. She felt a little bad about it...but if she'd revealed the real reason why she was trying to set them up, then Sakura would never have gone along with it. After all, she refused to believe that she was falling for Syaoran, and she was surprisingly stubborn about it. She'd need convincing, and this was the perfect opportunity.

Sakura bit her lip. "I guess...but you didn't tell me you were going to get Eriol a thank you gift."

"Forget about that," Tomoyo said, trying to turn the conversation back around. "C'mon, do it. It won't be so bad. The sooner, the better."

Sakura sighed and nodded. "Right."

Meanwhile, the two boys were talking amongst themselves, too.

"Syaoran, this actually sounds like a good plan," Yamazaki said, grinning. Since Syaoran seemed so against the idea, it would be fun to put him through a little torture. _Hell, it might even be worth going to college for,_ he thought, his grin growing wider by the instant.

Syaoran turned to Yamazaki, now clearly as horrified as Sakura was. "What?"

"Go to the movie! You don't even have to pay. And they're watching—" Yamazaki paused to look at the tickets in Tomoyo's hands and stifled a laugh. "—_Wishing Well._ Just the movie we wanted to go see!" At that point, he couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. _Wishing Well _was an obvious chick flick, not to mention a huge tear-jerker—the _Titanic_ of modern times. Just imagining Syaoran attempting to sit through it made him hysterical.

Syaoran once again resisted the urge to punch Yamazaki in the face. Why did Yamazaki always bring out his violent side? He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Yamazaki, this is going too far. I mean, I know you want a 'relationship—'" Syaoran paused to make quotation marks with his fingers, which earned another laugh from Yamazaki— "but I _refuse_ to sit through a movie with that girl. I just went on a date with her! And...I mean, come on..._Wishing Well_?"

Yamazaki shook his head, already having made up his mind. "No movie, no college."

This time, Syaoran really did slap Yamazaki in the back of the head. "Fine. Bastard."

Yamazaki rubbed his head, wincing, but he laughed good-naturedly. "You're such an abusive best friend. Tomoyo, are you ready to go?"

Tomoyo looked over from where she'd pulled Sakura aside and nodded, smiling. "Yep!" She walked up to Syaoran, placing her ticket in his hand. "Enjoy the movie," she said, her grin so wide that it could match Yamazaki's, and she walked towards the mall, Yamazaki beside her.

Sakura watched with a somewhat forlorn expression on her face as Tomoyo's figure grew smaller and smaller until she disappeared into the mall.

"Try not to look so excited, you're embarrassing me," Syaoran muttered, stalking towards the theater.

Sakura looked at Syaoran's retreating back incredulously, unable to believe the outrageousness of the situation. "You are _such_ an asshole," she muttered, making sure he was out of earshot, then followed halfheartedly after him.

The worker in the theater pointed them to which room the movie would be playing in, and Sakura somewhat timidly followed Syaoran, all her previous rage starting to give in to fear.

Syaoran stopped at the designated room and pulled open the door with obvious frustration, muttering curse words under his breath. He needed time _away _from her, not right next to her.

But then again, he didn't need to be _right_ next to her. _Just because we're watching the same movie doesn't mean I have to sit with her,_ he thought, but stifled a groan as he saw that the theater was packed. He scanned the room desperately for empty seats, but there were only two left—and, as luck would have it, they were right next to each other. It would have been funny, he thought, if it weren't happening to him. What were the odds?

Without saying a word, he climbed up the stairs to the empty seats and plopped down into one, leaning on the armrest with his chin in his hand. Sakura sat down somewhat slowly next to him, not sure what to do. She really didn't want to see the movie anymore, not if it meant two hours of sitting in unbearable silence next to a guy she _really_ did not need to spend time with right now.

After sitting through previews, the movie finally started, and Sakura tried to make the most of it; she'd been waiting for this movie to come out for a long time. And, surprisingly, it worked; soon enough, Sakura was so engrossed in the storyline that she forgot all about Syaoran sitting beside her.

That was, until he interrupted the best part of the movie. The lead female character, who'd gotten into a huge fight with the lead male character, stood at an old, abandoned well, holding back tears and tossing a coin in, when all of a sudden, she looked up to see the lead male standing across the well from her, tossing a coin in as well and smiling at her. Romantic music swelled in the background, and Sakura sighed in satisfaction.

"Sakura, this is so cheesy. How do you enjoy stuff like this?" Syaoran muttered, completely ruining the moment.

Sakura was ready to completely ignore him, but in a moment of impulse, she blurted out, "Hey, nobody said you absolutely _had_ to come and see this with me. You could've left if you wanted to."

Syaoran snorted. _Wanna bet? Go tell that to Yamazaki._ But at least she was arguing with him, rather than backing down instantly. He smirked. Maybe he could make this a little more interesting. "Let's get out of here."

Sakura turned to look at him. "Are you serious? The movie's getting really good!"

"You've gotta be joking. Sakura, none of this could happen in real life!"

"It could, too!"

"Yeah, if you lived inside of a television. _Please._ This is the dumbest movie I've ever seen."

Sakura frowned. "Fine. I'll just come back to see it later. You're ruining it, anyway. But what are we going to do for the next hour? Tomoyo and Yamazaki aren't coming back for awhile."

Syaoran grinned. "Well, there's this _other_ movie I wanted to see..."

* * *

"How do you think it's going?" Yamazaki asked as Tomoyo and he walked through the mall, looking—but not really looking—for a store where they could buy Eriol's gift.

"Well, Sakura hasn't called me in defeat yet, so I assume they haven't gotten completely sick of each other yet," Tomoyo replied, a mischievous smile on her face.

Yamazaki laughed. "I can't believe you set them up. That was priceless."

Tomoyo shrugged. "They need to learn to get along if they think they're dating."

"_Think_ they're dating?" Yamazaki frowned. _Does she know about the deal?_

Tomoyo shook her head as she realized her mistake. She couldn't let it slip to Yamazaki that Sakura was only going out with Syaoran on a bet... "I mean, if they're dating. Sorry, I don't know what I was saying."

Yamazaki brushed it off. There was no way she could find out about the deal, anyway; only the boys at their lunch table were in on it, and Tomoyo was a new student. "Hey, let's try going in here," he said, pointing to a store they just passed.

Tomoyo looked up at the sign—it was a music store. "Why didn't I think of that?" She laughed.

"That's why you have me. Anyway, why are you so keen on them getting together?"

"Hmm...well, I mean...Syaoran seems like a decent guy. And Sakura could use a few friends. She seems really lonely...so I want them to get along—I want this to work out." And, in truth, Tomoyo would have liked this to relationship to go beyond the bet. Somehow, she saw them as a good couple. They balanced each other out.

Yamazaki nodded. "But Syaoran's so volatile," he said, laughing. "And Sakura's so...timid. It's an odd match."

"They are pretty cute together, though," Tomoyo said, hovering to the New Age section.

Yamazaki thought for a moment, then nodded. "I never really looked at it that way."

"That's because you're a boy," she teased. Then, she smiled, picking out a couple of CDs. "Think Eriol will like these?"

* * *

"Syaoran, we're going to get caught!" Sakura ran after Syaoran, not wanting to get too far behind. They were sneaking into another movie—a _horror_ movie, at that—and, although the corridors of the theater were empty, Sakura, who'd never snuck in and out of movies before, was a bit paranoid.

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "No, we're not. Now just keep quiet and act like nothing's wrong, or we really will get caught."

Sakura sighed and held a hand to her head as she walked, trying not to look at the employees who were working in the corridor. There was no one to check tickets at the screening room door, so they walked in with ease. _I guess I really was__ a little too paranoid there...but...a _horror movie?

Sakura hated anything related to ghosts, vampires, werewolves, anything of the like; there was nothing that scared her more than horror movies and scary stories. Her brother had often taken advantage of this when she was younger, jumping out at her from dark corners, which had only added to her fear. And, of course, when Syaoran had mentioned that they were going to watch a scary movie, she'd tried to argue—but, as usual, he'd somehow coaxed her into doing it. She didn't understand how this always happened; against her will, he'd managed to get her to go to a party, to go to his house...and now, this?

Initially, she'd just insisted on staying and finishing up _Wishing Well_ when she found out that Syaoran wanted to sneak in to a horror movie, but something odd had happened: he'd actually begged her to go with him...and, surprised, she'd followed along.

"_I—I think I'll just stay here," Sakura said, shuddering at the thought of rotting corpses, even if they were just in a movie screen._

"_But why? I thought you didn't like watching movies by yourself," Syaoran said, frowning._

"_I don't. But I'd rather watch this by myself than go to a horror movie—and it's not even you, I promise—if there were a hundred people going with me, I'd still rather watch a non-scary movie by myself."_

_Syaoran sighed, and, rather desperately, he said, "Sakura, _please._ I'm begging you."_

_Sakura looked at Syaoran, startled. "What?"_

"_I'm begging__ you. Please come with me."_

_Okay, now he was just starting to scare her. Sakura could feel last night's headache coming back. Just how many personalities did this guy really have? "O—okay..."_

The sound effects of the movie could be heard just outside the room; the movie had already started. _I really didn't know what I was getting myself into when I took on this bet,_ Sakura thought, and sighed, following Syaoran into the room. _I guess I'll just have to deal with it as best as I can...but this better count as the last date, or I don't know what I'll do._

"Oh, good, we're not too far into the movie yet," Syaoran said, grinning. He began to walk up the stairs to find a good seat—there weren't as many people in this theater as there were in the theater for _Wishing Well_—but stopped when he saw a somewhat horrorstruck Sakura, standing with her eyes transfixed to the screen, which now featured a gory zombie moving closer and closer towards the protagonist. He walked back down the stairs and frowned. "Sakura?"

Sakura's eyes grew wider as the zombie managed to grab a hold of the protagonist's ankle. The protagonist let out a piercing scream, filling the theater with the noise.

"Sakura, say something."

"I—I think I'm gonna throw up."

Syaoran sighed. "Are you really that frightened?"

Sakura nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen.

"Sakura, look at me!" Syaoran grabbed her face and turned her towards him. "You're such a baby," he muttered. "Look. It's not gonna be that bad. This is probably one of the mildest horror movies out there. And if you get scared, I'll be sitting right next to you. I'll remind you that it's not real." He'd actually been planning on sitting by himself, but after seeing how scared Sakura was...well, he wasn't _that_ heartless. _Besides, I don't wanna be held responsible when she dies of a fear-induced heart attack, _he thought wryly.

Sakura sighed shakily. "Okay. But I don't know how I let you talk me in to this."

Syaoran merely grinned in response and led her up the stairs, choosing seats right in the middle of the room.

_I can do this,_ Sakura tried to reassure herself, taking deep breaths, her hands at the ready to cover her eyes. _I can do this. I can do this._ The protagonist began to walk cautiously through an empty street, where everything was eerily quiet. Idle noises—paper blowing, a wheel turning, chimes jingling—only added to the eeriness. _I can do this. I can do this.__ It's not so bad, and Syaoran's right next to me. I can do this._ Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bloodied and ashen zombie jumped in front of the protagonist, making Sakura jump in her seat.

_Oh, my God. Who am I kidding? I can't do this._

Promptly, Sakura got out of her seat and prepared to run out of the theater. This was a horrible idea. She feared this kind of thing more than anything else in the world. Even high school was more bearable! She'd have nightmares for the next twenty years, and, since she didn't want to have nightmares for the next _forty _years, she had to get out of here—

"Sakura, wait!" Syaoran grabbed a hold of her hand, taking her by surprise and nearly making her scream.

She sat back down in her chair, the fear making her knees wobble. "Syaoran, I'm sorry, but I can't keep watching this, not if I want to have nice dreams...not if I want my heart to keep beating—"

"You can hold my hand if you get scared." Syaoran stopped to think for a moment. _Wait, did I just say that? _He sighed. _No attachments. Well, that's working out really great. _Oh, the things he did for Yamazaki.

"What?" Sakura looked at him, baffled. _He has got to be the _most _confusing boy on this planet. Glaring at me for the first ten minutes, ignoring me for the next forty, begging me to go with him the next minute, dragging me rudely into a movie I _don't_ want to watch, and now he's offering to let me hold his _hand "Are you out of your mind?" Sakura blurted out, but covered her mouth as soon as she said it. She'd meant to _think_ that, not say it aloud!

Syaoran glared at her. "I was only trying to be nice—"

Sakura shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was just, uh...a little confused...but...thank you."

Syaoran's expression softened, and somewhat tentatively, he put his hand on the armrest next to Sakura, as though offering it to her, just in case; he'd been crossing his arms before.

Sakura had to stop herself from smiling at the gesture. As unbearable as he was, he could be so cute sometimes without even meaning to be, although she'd never admit that out loud._ Maybe the movie won't be so scary anymore._

It was wishful thinking on Sakura's part; the movie was horrific, to say the least. But holding Syaoran's hand _had _made it easier. The next time a scary moment came up, Sakura grabbed Syaoran's hand as if by instinct, and it helped to remind her that the movie was just that—a movie. And it was admittedly a little awkward at first, but both of them got used to it; although, it took Syaoran a bit longer to get used to, simply because Sakura's grip was insanely strong, especially for such a small person. Finally, by the time the movie was over, Syaoran was relieved that he'd no longer have to offer his now aching hand to Sakura, and he was also a bit regretful that he'd offered it in the first place. If he'd known that she had such a killer grip...

"God, I think I might have broken a finger or two," Syaoran muttered as they walked out of the movie, rubbing his hand.

Sakura tried not to laugh. "I'm really sorry...I didn't mean to grip that hard. But you lied to me!" She stopped walking and turned to Syaoran, and, in an unexpected move of boldness, she playfully pushed him. "You told me that the movie was mild—I nearly passed out seeing all that blood!"

Syaoran stumbled backward, unable to say anything for a moment. _This is weird. She keeps acting differently at random moments. It's like a recap of last night...except in a different setting._ "Well," he said, brushing off his shoulder and regaining his composure, "I said it was mild, as far as horror movies go. I never said it'd be mild enough for your tastes."

"You're awful."

"You're a wimp."

Sakura frowned. "Well, you're..." She paused to think. "I can't really think of anything that I haven't already called you before," she said, laughing.

Syaoran intended to ignore the stupid joke, but for some reason, he felt his lips twitch into a smile. "That means I win."

* * *

"Aw, look at them," Tomoyo cooed, watching Sakura and Syaoran walk out of the theater and into the lobby.

"No way...I can't believe it! Wow, Tomoyo...that's amazing. I'd never have thought they'd get along!" Yamazaki said, awestruck.

Since they were both standing just outside of the mall entrance, they went unnoticed by Sakura and Syaoran, who were standing in the lobby and talking and laughing.

_This is going a lot better than I expected, _Tomoyo thought, surprised. _I may not even have to do a lot of work to put them together!_

_But...an extra push wouldn't hurt._

"Let's give them some more time alone, shall we?" Tomoyo said, walking towards the bus stop. "Yamazaki, have you had anything to eat yet?"

Yamazaki hesitated. If this kept up, he'd lose the bet for sure. _But..._ He looked back into the lobby, watching Syaoran talk animatedly to Sakura. It wasn't too often that he looked so carefree. And...all in all, he'd made this bet more or less for Syaoran's sake. "No, I'm starving," he said, grinning. "Let's go somewhere far from the mall, yeah?"

* * *

"Maybe I should bring you to another horror movie to get you used to it—"

"No," Sakura interrupted firmly. "That is the last time I ever let you—or anyone—drag me into a horror movie. Although, holding your hand did help a bit," she added quietly. "Thank you."

Syaoran nodded. "But see if I ever let you do that again. I need this hand, and if you end up breaking it, who knows what'll happen?"

"Oh, _now_ who's being the baby?" Sakura laughed. "If you're honestly going to tell me that you're scared of a girl holding your hand..."

"Ouch, that hurt my pride. Is that the best you can do? Make girl jokes?" Syaoran retorted.

As Sakura's laughter faded, she looked out of the clear doorways and windows of the lobby, searching for Tomoyo. "It's been awhile since Tomoyo and Yamazaki left us here...I'm going to give Tomoyo a call. I'll be right back," she said, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket as she walked away.

Syaoran sighed, sitting down on a nearby bench. As frustrating (and not to mention quite painful for his hand) as this afternoon had been, he'd found himself having fun. Again. Fun, two days in a row, with Sakura Kinomoto, out of every other person he could have spent the past two days with. This was getting out of hand. He watched absentmindedly as Sakura paced up and down the far side of the lobby, a somewhat worried expression on her face as she spoke into the phone. Oh, she was definitely different from her first impression—she'd proven that already.

The situation was becoming a bit different, and in rapid fashion. In the beginning, he wasn't able to wait until the bet was over, until he'd won...but slowly, his mind had focused less on the fact that this relationship was all based around a deal, and more on the fact that every time he saw Sakura, things changed, albeit only very slightly, in a good way. But of course, getting Yamazaki into college was his number one priority. When it came down to it, that was why he dated, or even talked to Sakura, which was why having fun with her felt more like a sin to Syaoran than anything else. He didn't quite consider her a good friend; after all, he'd only known her a week, and...well, frankly, she was just too _annoying_ to be a good friend.

But it had gotten to the point where he cared enough about how she felt—how she would feel if she found out the truth behind his actions.

It was a hard concept to wrap his brain around, and he hadn't quite gotten a hold of all of the thoughts that went into this yet, but he needed to get it sorted out soon, or this whole situation would simply be a train wreck waiting to happen.

* * *

"What do you mean, 'you already left?'" Sakura whispered into the phone, panic starting to rise in her chest. _Tomoyo wouldn't leave me alone with Syaoran...would she?_

"I'm really sorry, Sakura," Tomoyo said from the other line. "I just thought you were going to stick with Syaoran for the rest of the day, and Yamazaki and I got really hungry—"

"But that wasn't part of the plan!" Sakura said frantically, her eyes shifting over to Syaoran, who was looking out the window of the lobby with his chin in his hand. "I can't spend the rest of the day with him, I really can't!"

"You seemed to be having a good time when you were walking out of the theater," Tomoyo mused.

"You _saw_ us? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, Sakura, our food's ready. Gotta go, sorry. Syaoran can give you a ride home! I'll explain it to Uncle Fujitaka."

"Tomoyo, Tomoyo, wait!" Sakura looked at the screen of her cell phone, which said the call had already ended. Sighing tiredly, she put the phone back in her pocket and walked back towards Syaoran. How was she going to explain this one?

"So what's going on?" Syaoran said as Sakura walked back.

"Ah...well, it seems Tomoyo and Yamazaki have abandoned us."

"_What?_"

"Yeah, that's how I reacted, too. They said they got hungry or something...and Tomoyo asked if you could take me home."

Syaoran scratched his head, cursing Yamazaki under his breath and trying to sort out the dilemma at hand. "I really would take you home if I could, but I walked here. My house isn't that far from the mall, and everything..."

"Oh. Well, I mean...I could take the bus home," Sakura said, not wanting to bother Syaoran any further.

_But that won't work, either._ He'd feel bad—he couldn't just send her home by herself right now. It'd be unethical. And, as much as he wanted to just go home...or to find Yamazaki and beat the tar out of him...he'd probably be ridden with guilt for just leaving her, at least without getting something to eat. "Well...do you wanna get something to eat first? I don't know about you, but I'm kind of hungry."

Sakura was surprised. He was actually offering to voluntarily spend more time with her? "Uh...sure. Where to?"

"The mall's right by here, so we can go eat in the food court." He walked outside, Sakura following, where the sun was beginning to set; naturally, the weather was freezing. His breath came out in little puffs of air.

"Er...Syaoran," Sakura said somewhat hesitantly as she walked alongside him. "I was wondering...is this a date?"

Syaoran thought carefully before replying. Technically, they were spending time together—and, at this point, it was half out of his own will and half out of Yamazaki's and Tomoyo's abandonment—but that was really all it was, wasn't it? Just spending time together. "I don't think so. I mean, neither of us really want to be here, right?"

Sakura looked up at him, slightly surprised at the bluntness of his answer. Of course, she was disappointed that it wasn't considered a date—that meant she'd have to go through with another full date with him for sure—but...

"_Neither of us really want to be here, right?"_

Surprisingly, she felt hurt. Even though he was mean and rude, the moments where he showed kindness were so sweet that they almost made up entirely for his behavior. She didn't get to go out very often, so this weekend had actually been the best she'd ever had. The idea of spending the rest of the day had made her nervous, sure, and she'd rather have spent the rest of the evening with Tomoyo. But that didn't mean she didn't want to be here. She _did_ want to be here. _But I guess he really doesn't._

"Sakura?"

"Ah...yeah. Yeah, it was a silly question. I was just wondering," she said, and she smiled and looked back down.

Syaoran stared at her for a moment, recognizing the crooked smile, the one that was completely different from what her real smile looked like. Something was wrong, he figured, but at this point, he felt a little too tired to bother asking about it.

They walked in silence into the mall and towards the food court, only briefly conversing to figure out what they were going to eat; in the end, they decided on sub sandwiches ("He really is a health freak," Sakura had muttered to herself).

As they sat down, the uncomfortable silence continued, reminding Syaoran all too much of the night before. He tried to avoid looking at Sakura as he ate, wondering how a day he'd meant to spend avoiding her had ended up being a day spent mostly with her.

"Um...so..." Sakura said very quietly.

Syaoran looked up from his sandwich. "What?"

"I know this might sound silly, but...after we eat, do you think you could wait at the bus stop with me? Just until it comes. It's just that it's really dark outside now, and...you know..." She'd barely touched her sandwich, Syaoran noticed.

He ran a hand through his hair. It wouldn't be a problem, but he really needed to get away from her, just until he could sort out his thoughts; she'd understand, right? So he'd just tell her that he couldn't, that he had to go home as soon as possible... "Actually, why don't you just walk to my house with me and I'll drive you home from there?"

_What the hell did I just say? _Syaoran thought in horror. _I didn't mean to say that!_

"Really?"

"Er...yeah." _No! I'm supposed to say NO!_

"Well...okay, then. Thank you."

He sighed and bit into his sandwich, giving up. It was all done, anyway, and he didn't have the heart or the energy to retract his offer. _What the hell is wrong with me? I must be losing my mind..._

If he kept this up, these next three weeks with Sakura would be very, very long.

* * *

That's it! I hope this is turning out to be a lot less cliché than it started out to be. Sorry for such a sloppy chapter; everyone's emotions and actions were all over the place here! I guess it's the development that's the hardest, ne? --; But I am trying to show progress in both Syaoran and Sakura; can you guys notice? And please tell me if you think I'm moving too fast. Thank you for reading, please review! See you soon—

-Franny


	7. A Surefire Thing

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everyone! Thanks so much for all of your great reviews from my previous chapter. I'm sorry for not updating in a month and a half; I've just started school again, so I'm bound to be busy for awhile. I'll try to write when I have free time, I promise! In any case, thank you so much for being patient with me, and I'll try to have the next chapter out soon. I love you guys!

_**Italics in the story **__**usually**__** represent the thoughts of the characters. **_

**Chapter 7: **A Surefire Thing

Tomoyo turned to Yamazaki as they waitefd for the bus to arrive. "Thanks for playing along today. And thanks for buying me dinner. It was really good," she said, smiling.

"It was nothing. I'm just really surprised that they get along that well," Yamazaki replied, shaking his head. "It's unbelievable."

"Well, Eriol told me something like, 'Syaoran is a nice guy, but he hates to show it.'"

Yamazaki laughed. "That's probably the most accurate description of him, yeah. But I mean...no offense—I know she's your cousin and all—but when Syaoran and I were figuring out the bet, we thought they didn't stand a chance—"

"Bet? What bet?" Tomoyo said, narrowing her eyes.

Yamazaki slapped a hand over his mouth. _No way. No way in hell did I just say that._

"Syaoran is going out with Sakura...on a _bet_?" Tomoyo asked, her voice incredulous. _What are the odds? Both of them are in an artificial relationship, then._

"It was a stupid—a stupid little thing, and we didn't think it would even turn out to be that big of a deal...but...I mean...they're getting along a lot better than I thought they would..." Yamazaki looked at Tomoyo with such sincerity that Tomoyo felt her some of her fury dissipate almost immediately. He was very good at pulling the "lost puppy" look. "Tomoyo, I don't know what to say...I'm really sorry. I mean, I thought about pulling the plug, but it's gotten so deep that I don't know if I can anymore. He just—he really wants me to go to college, and _I_ really want him to get a social life, so...we set up this deal, and..."

Tomoyo wasn't letting him completely off the hook. "And so you decided that you could mess around with some poor, innocent girl in return for a college education?" She replied coldly.

Yamazaki sighed and sat down on the bench at the bus stop. "I suppose it wouldn't be of any use to ask you not to tell Sakura..." He did look genuinely sorry.

Tomoyo held her chin in her hand, sitting down beside Yamazaki, her angry expression slowly dissolving into one of tired thought. "Actually, I don't think I will."

Yamazaki stared at Tomoyo. "Come again?"

"I'm not going to tell Sakura."

"Why not?" Yamazaki said, slightly dismayed at her lack of loyalty. "She's your cousin—"

"I know she's my cousin, and I'm not doing it to be mean," Tomoyo said, staring off into the distance. "But I really think she and Syaoran stand a chance. I want Sakura to have someone to lean on. I know that sounds cheesy, but it's sad—she's so lonely and she doesn't even realize it. I think, as much of a _jerk_ as Syaoran can be, he also brings out a very good part of her. I don't want them to lose that. Even though there's still a lot of hostility between them...I could see this going much further than most people expect it to. "

Yamazaki said nothing, only contemplating what Tomoyo said. It was true that Syaoran and Sakura both seemed rather different when they were with each other. As odd as it sounded, they did seem to click quite well. And as much as Yamazaki hated the idea of going to college, the main reason he'd even made this bet with Syaoran in the first place was because Syaoran's life was about as exciting as a rock's. All he did was work, eat, sleep, fight... Of course, he hung out with Eriol and Yamazaki pretty often, but his life was still a far cry from that of a normal teenager's. While most teens his age were falling in love, learning the rules of handling the opposite sex, going out on the town together, and just generally enjoying themselves, Syaoran was working, always tense, always about competition and discipline. Even at parties, he would sit back and watch the other kids dance and make friends, but he would never participate, himself—the first time he'd actually danced at a party had been with Sakura. And he reacted differently to Sakura than he did with other girls. Although he treated her pretty badly at times, he was, Yamazaki could tell, very gradually lightening up, and he'd done more with her (for the sake of the bet, of course) than Yamazaki had really required him to do.

So, in spite of the fact that, should the relationship stay intact, Yamazaki would very well be going to college, he agreed with Tomoyo. He sighed. "Right. Let's keep this under wraps, then, shall we?"

Tomoyo smiled and nodded.

"But...why did Sakura ask Syaoran out in the first place? She doesn't seem to fawn over him like the other girls do."

Tomoyo bit her lip. Yamazaki had just confessed—somewhat inadvertently, of course—Syaoran's motives, but was it her place to confess Sakura's?

"No idea. Maybe she just wanted to try something new," Tomoyo said absently. She would wait. The time when she would tell would come; it just wasn't now.

* * *

Sakura stepped out of the mall and into the dark streets, Syaoran close behind her. She bundled up tightly—it was _freezing_, no joke—and turned around to Syaoran. "Are you sure this is what you want to do? I could really wait for the bus—"

"Shut up and let's go before I change my mind," Syaoran muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. _She's given you so many chances to back out, and you're still saying yes, _Syaoran thought to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists in frustration. Sakura, who had been rather unsure, and, Syaoran suspected, a bit reluctant, to allow Syaoran to take her home, had asked many times if "he was sure." And each time, no matter what that voice of reason said, he told her that, yes, he was sure, and if she didn't stop asking, he really would abandon her at the bus stop.

Although, judging by his answers, he had no intention whatsoever of carrying out his threat.

They walked in silence for awhile, Syaoran mentally cursing himself as they made their way down the sidewalk.

"Thank you, by the way. For spending your day with me," Sakura said quietly beside him.

Syaoran shrugged it off, although he felt it would have been better to make some nasty comment about how tiring it was to have to bring her everywhere...but after all, he _was_ the one who'd offered in the first place...against his own will...

_That doesn't even make sense, _Syaoran thought to himself, snorting.

They walked in silence for a bit longer, until the silence grew so uncomfortable that Sakura forced herself to make conversation. "So...did you really hate _Wishing Well_ that much?" she asked lamely. She couldn't really think of anything to say.

"It's just not realistic," Syaoran replied. "Stuff like that doesn't happen in real life."

Sakura frowned. "It could. You're too pessimistic."

Syaoran laughed dryly. "_I'm _too pessimistic? You're the one who thought that going to Eriol's party would result in a disaster."

"Syaoran, in case you forgot, the party _was_ a disaster."

Syaoran scratched his head. "Oh. Right. But still, I mean...it was okay while we were there."

Sakura kicked a pebble as she walked. "Yeah, I guess. But anyway...it's okay to be unrealistic every once in awhile. You shouldn't try to be so serious all the time. It's not good for you," she said, a slight smile on her lips.

Syaoran scoffed. "What, so I can be like you?" Automatically, he wished he hadn't said it—he was pretty sure Sakura was close to screaming at him for being so mean all day—but he was surprised when Sakura laughed.

"I can be serious sometimes, you know," she said, the smile still on her face. No matter how many times he'd seen it, Syaoran was always taken aback by how different Sakura looked when she was smiling. "But you're always so _tense,_" she said, and she stopped walking abruptly and stood in front of him.

Syaoran stopped as well, staring at her with curiosity. "What do you mean, I'm tense? I'm perfectly relaxed right now."

Sakura stifled a laugh. "You are not!" She made an overly exaggerated impression of Syaoran, hunching her shoulders up to her ears and stiffening her entire body.

Syaoran tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but he felt a smile tug at his lips. "I do not look like that."

"Oh, excuse me." Sakura hunched her shoulders a little less, but she still looked fairly ridiculous—yet, at the same time, Syaoran could see where she was coming from. "Just..." Sakura lowered her shoulders and got back into a normal posture. "Relax. Breathe. You always look like you're ready to be attacked."

Syaoran was about to protest, but something compelled him to humor her instead. He shifted a little. "That better?"

"No, now you're just leaning on one foot instead of both." She hesitated for a moment—Syaoran could see it on her face—and then she stepped up to him, reaching up to his shoulders, as though she were teaching him to dance again. Her voice shook from nerves, but she gently forced him to relax his stiff shoulders. "Relax," she repeated.

Syaoran felt dumb doing it, but he let out a long exhale and tried to relax.

"Good," Sakura said, smiling. "There. Now...your posture. I know they say good posture is good for you, but yours is just a little too good. Your back is as straight as a wooden board, you know that? It's okay to hunch over every once in awhile," she said, slumping her shoulders in demonstration.

Syaoran raised an eyebrow. He followed Sakura's example, but she burst out laughing. Immediately, he straightened up again. "What?" he said, aggravated and defensive.

"I was exaggerating! You'll look like a hunchback if you walk around like that." She put a hand to her chin in thought. "Okay. Look. Forget about my examples. Just breathe. Don't think about your problems and your duties all the time."

Syaoran exhaled again, still feeling stupid, but not as much as before.

Sakura smiled as she saw that his posture lightened up a great deal. He looked as though the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders. "That's perfect. Now try walking like that the entire way home."

Syaoran made a face at her, but he attempted to follow her instructions, shoving his hands in his pockets again as they walked on. "Your personality is really inconsistent, you know," he muttered.

"What? _My_ personality is inconsistent? You're the one who gives me headaches with your insane mood swings!"

Syaoran glanced at her from the side, unaffected. "I may have mood swings, but at least I don't switch from playful to super-serious to...completely weird six times a day!"

Sakura clenched her jaw in a rather noble attempt to keep herself from insulting Syaoran in the foulest way she could think of. Finally, after a moment's silence, she spoke very slowly, so as to control herself. "Let's just agree that we both have...moments where we're not ourselves, okay?" _What an understatement. Syaoran can't "not be himself," since I don't even know which personality is really his._

They rounded a stone wall blocking off a huge house, which Sakura recognized to be Syaoran's, and stepped in front of the gate. Sakura shook her head. "How could you ever get used to living in a place like this?"

"I've never really lived in a normally sized house." Syaoran paused to press a button off to the side, then spoke into the intercom next to it in Chinese. He straightened up as the gates opened with a loud groan. "It's really annoying," he added, walking up the path to his house. "I wouldn't mind living in a house like yours, actually."

Sakura was surprised. "Like mine? Why?"

"You don't understand what a pain it is to want to get a midnight snack or something, and have to walk for a few minutes just to get to it. It's like living in an entire village more than a house. Plus...all these caretakers and maids and butlers...I'm never alone in the house. Ever."

Sakura nodded. "I guess that would get pretty aggravating after awhile. But at least you don't get lonely," she added.

Syaoran glanced at her from the side rather skeptically. He opened his mouth to say something, but just then, Wei opened the door.

"Welcome home, Master Li," Wei said, opening the door wider to let the two in.

"Hi, Wei. This is Sakura," Syaoran said, gesturing to Sakura. He exchanged glances with Wei, subtly confirming that she was the "date" Syaoran had referred to in that morning's conversation.

"Pleased to meet you," Wei said to Sakura, bowing.

Sakura smiled and bowed back. "It's nice to meet you, too."

Syaoran led Sakura once more through the huge entrance room, Wei walking alongside them. "Your mother has returned," he said.

Syaoran raised his eyebrows. "Already? I thought she'd return tomorrow morning," he said.

"The business conference went much better and more smoothly than expected, so she felt it was safe to return early."

Syaoran sighed and nodded. He turned to Sakura. "I have to greet my mother. I'll be back." He pointed her to a sofa on the far right of the entrance room. "You can wait there, and then I'll drive you home."

Sakura nodded and went to sit on the sofa.

"May I offer you something to drink?" Wei said, pausing on his way out of the room.

"No, but thank you," Sakura replied, feeling awkward. She felt weird being in Syaoran's home. It had been okay before—but then, they'd been alone.

Wei nodded and smiled, walking down the long corridor and out of sight.

Sakura could sort of see how Syaoran had trouble living here now. As nice as Wei seemed, she couldn't imagine being served like that every day. She looked around the room, truly noticing for the first time how many monuments to Syaoran there were around the room. Without realizing it, she got up off the sofa and walked around the walls, looking at pictures of Syaoran at ages two, seven, ten.

There were pictures of him as a baby at the beach, practicing martial arts as a child, on his first day of school. He looked so..._normal._ And happy. How had he grown into the serious, rude, but...slowly more and more tolerable...guy she knew now?

"Sakura?"

Sakura turned around. Syaoran stood at the front of the corridor leading to the rest of the house, looking—for once—hesitant and, Sakura could see, a bit nervous. "What is it?" she said, frowning. "Is something wrong?"

Syaoran looked at the ground as he spoke. "Uh...well, my mother...she wants to meet you. She coaxed it out of me that I'd brought a girl home, and..."

Sakura felt a slight surge of panic, but she took a few steadying breaths and calmed herself. Oddly enough, she didn't have nearly as much of a problem with meeting adults as she did with kids her own age. "Okay. Okay, I think I can do it."

Syaoran looked up from the floor, slightly surprised at the amount of confidence in her voice. "What?"

"I can do it. I'm good with adults," Sakura said, trying to smile reassuringly.

Syaoran stared at her a moment, baffled, but without saying a word, led her out of the entrance room and through the corridor. He heard her footsteps quicken once more as they went through the darkest part and stifled a laugh. She could be so brave about some things—he would have been _terrified_ to meet his date's parents—but she was such a baby about other things, like a dark hallway.

They reached the ballroom and walked across it to the right, which led to another corridor, this one a bit longer than the first. Instinctively, Sakura grabbed Syaoran's hand, and he raised his eyebrows, although she couldn't see him. And then, realizing what she'd done, she immediately let go, as though she'd been burned very severely.

"Sorry," she stammered. "I just...the movies today...forgot..."

"It's fine," Syaoran muttered, leading her to the end of the corridor, walking a bit faster than need be. As they emerged into the light, he looked over at her to see that her face was rather red from embarrassment, and he felt a curious sensation to roll his eyes and smile all at once.

Ignoring such things for the moment, he walked up to his mother, who was sitting on a sofa in the very ornate and elaborately decorated living room, her back turned towards the entrance. Sakura could not understand, as he spoke to her in Chinese, but he must have said something that indicated that Sakura was behind her.

Syaoran's mother turned around stood up, and Sakura was not surprised to see that she was a very beautiful woman—she was, after all, Syaoran's mother. Much taller than Sakura was, almost Syaoran's height, there was something very noble in her appearance. Her long black hair was tied up in a very high ponytail, her hair ornaments making her look like a queen. She was dressed for bed, although she still looked like she could rule a castle in what she was wearing. The loose kimono-like robe that covered her silk blouse and pants trailed behind her like a cape as she stepped towards Sakura.

Syaoran stood silently by the sofa, keeping his eyes on the ground. He seemed very nervous, for some reason or another.

"How do you do," Sakura said politely, bowing. Beautiful as she was, Syaoran's mother was absolutely intimidating. She could see now why Syaoran seemed so hesitant about letting them meet. For some reason, she felt that her natural charm with adults wasn't going to be as useful here, and all of her confidence began to ebb away quite rapidly.

Syaoran's mother said nothing for a moment, seeming to examine every inch of Sakura's appearance. Sakura was suddenly thankful that Tomoyo had taken her shopping today; she'd left the house wearing a hoodie and jeans, but after they'd gone shopping, Tomoyo had made her change into a skirt and blazer.

Finally, Yelan spoke, her voice every bit as elegant as her look. "My son says your name is Sakura Kinomoto," she said in very fluent, flawless Japanese.

Sakura kept her eyes on the ground. "Yes, that's correct," she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"But other than your name and your age and the fact that you go to the same school, he tells me very little about you," she continued, as though Sakura had not said anything at all.

There was a long silence, as Sakura thought that she intended to keep speaking. And then, she looked back up, and saw that the woman's eyebrows were raised in expectation of an answer.

"W-we only just met last week," Sakura said, trying to speak a little louder. _Don't be nervous,_ Sakura told herself. _You survived sitting through a horror movie today! You should be able to get through anything!_ She nearly laughed at the comparison. Suddenly, the horror movie sounded like a walk in the park.

"And yet, you're dating," Yelan said very quietly, her tone one more of curiosity than mockery. "Syaoran has never brought a girl to the house before. I believe you're the first."

Sakura wrung her hands behind her back, her tone at its most formal. "He was kind enough to offer me a ride home."

"Why the sudden interest in each other?" Yelan said, looking back at Syaoran for the first time, then back to Sakura. "If you two only just met last week..."

Syaoran could not seem to find any words; Sakura was surprised to see him so speechless for once.

"I—I asked him out," Sakura spoke up, surprising herself. "We've gone on a couple of dates, and...admittedly, we don't get along all the time," she said, still avoiding Yelan's gaze. For some reason, she felt like Syaoran's mother would be able to tell whether or not she was being honest. "But he's very kind, your son. And I enjoy spending time with him. I really do."

For a moment, the atmosphere was so tense that Sakura would not have been surprised if the room exploded from it, and then, very suddenly, Yelan smiled warmly and took Sakura's hand. "You have a very honest face. I'm sorry I was so cold to you; I only wanted to make sure that my son chose the right girl. I am Yelan Li."

Sakura smiled too, and behind Yelan's tall figure, she saw Syaoran slump over with relief. _So he can relax, after all,_ she thought vaguely. "Pleased to meet you," Sakura said, shaking Yelan's hand.

Syaoran, feeling nothing but relief in every inch of his body, stood and watched Sakura and his mother converse lightly for a few minutes. Although his mother was a kind person, she could be very difficult—very aggressive, when she wanted to be—and he had worried over how Sakura would fare under his mother's scrutiny. But, surprising him yet again, she had come through perfectly.

_I guess there's still a lot I don't know about her._

* * *

"I'm sorry my mother was so...intimidating at first," Syaoran said, not looking at Sakura as he spoke.

He was driving her home now; Sakura had conversed with his mother for a short time longer, and then they'd left the house, relieved and happy.

Sakura shook her head. "It's fine. She's very nice, actually."

There was a long silence after that, but it was far more comfortable than most of their silences were.

Surprisingly enough, Syaoran was the first to break it. "I just wanted to tell you—I really...admired you, in that moment," he said. He figured it was safe enough to tell her something like that; admiration was a platonic feeling...right?

Sakura looked over at him, surprised. He'd _said_ it typically enough—quietly, so quiet that she could barely hear him over the car, as usual, and somewhat nonchalantly. But it wasn't the tone that mattered; the words were what truly mattered.

_He admires me?_ Sakura shook her head. _Pull yourself together. You probably just misheard him. Syaoran Li would never say that to you!_

"Wh-what?"

"I admired you. When you were talking to my mother. I don't think I could have pulled that off," he said, glancing over at her.

"I don't...I don't understand."

Syaoran scoffed. "What is there to not understand? What you did was very admirable to me. I'm jealous. I wish I could have that kind of confidence."

Sakura's eyes widened upon hearing his words, but it was too dark for him to see her reaction. Finally, she spoke, but her words weren't very coherent. "Confident? Me? And...you admire me?"

Syaoran stopped the car very abruptly, brakes squealing, and looked at her very sharply. "Are you deaf? God, my _ancestors_ must have better hearing than you do!"

Sakura flinched a little at the brusque insult, but she didn't feel as hurt by it as she normally would have; either the shock of the previous compliments had dulled the effects of the insult, or...or she was just getting used to it. It was probably the latter.

So she laughed it off. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just...surprised."

Syaoran frowned. "Why?"

Sakura bit her lip. To tell the truth, or not to tell the truth? She barely had time to decide, anyway. It had spilled out of her mouth before she could stop it. "You're usually not so nice to me. Admiration is the complete opposite of what I thought you feel towards me...and...for confidence, of all things. It's just something I'm not used to."

Syaoran meant to reply with some smart remark, but he found his words caught in his throat and closed his mouth. He couldn't speak for a moment, for the most ridiculous reason: what she had said, as utterly absurd as it sounded to him, was actually quite true. He wasn't nice to her all the time. But he couldn't help that! And yes, it was odd that he was complimenting her for her confidence—it seemed like a bit of a paradox—but... _"Admiration is the complete opposite of what I thought you feel towards me."_ What was _that _supposed to mean? That she thought he despised her?

He couldn't look at her for the sudden guilt he felt. It wasn't too crazy for her to think that he didn't like her; after all, he made it pretty clear that he had better things to do than to hang out with her. _But she should cut me some slack! _He wasn't used to hanging out with people like her. She, of all people, should have been able to understand that.

The excuses he made up for himself didn't console him at all. It was so odd; two days ago, he would have cared less whether or not she had the wrong impression of him. It was, after all, a hoax of a relationship. So why did he care now? He shook his head. _I can't think of things like that right now!_

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found the right words. "I don't...think of you as a coward, if that's what you mean," he said quietly. "You just let yourself get pushed around a lot. And today, in front of my mother, you didn't. She liked it. And I like it, too." He looked over at her, a serious expression on his face. As far as Sakura knew, he wasn't joking...at all. "I do admire you, Sakura, from time to time. It's not that hard to admire someone, you know. A lot of people—yourself included—have a lot of qualities I would kill to have. While you have the guts to speak so surely to an adult, I was raised to never look my elders in the eye, to keep my head down, and respect them. And as a kid, respect, to me, meant fear...and I guess I never got over that. So...next time I say something like that, don't get so surprised, okay?" He gripped the steering wheel a bit more tightly, Sakura noticed. "It's insulting," he said, a slight smile on his face.

Sakura looked at him, completely speechless. _This guy...every day, he does something completely out of character. _"O—okay. Um...well, in that case...thank you."

They pulled up to her driveway a few minutes later, and Syaoran did not look at her as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Well...thanks for the ride," Sakura said, awkwardly. The silence between them after his outburst had been about as frigid as the air outside.

"Yeah. See you on Monday," he said, still not looking at her.

Sakura stared at him for a moment, both curious and frustrated. One moment, he was confessing feelings of admiration towards her, and the next, he was cold; and _he_ complained about her having an inconsistent personality! _What nerve,_ she thought, huffing, barely saying goodbye to him and stepping out of the car. As soon as she shut the door, he drove away without even looking at her again.

Sakura stood out in the cold air, staring after his retreating car and feeling a slight pressure in her temples. _Why do days the days I spend with Syaoran tend to end in headaches?_

* * *

"So, what happened?" Tomoyo said excitedly as Sakura stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a bathrobe with a nightgown underneath. "Tell me everything!"

Sakura made a face. "You seem awfully excited. And nothing happened. We ate, we walked back to his house, I met his mom, and he drove me home."

"You met his mother?" Tomoyo giggled.

Sakura turned red for no reason. "What? What's so funny about that?"

"Meeting the parents so early in a relationship...things must be getting pretty far," Tomoyo nudged jokingly.

"Yeah, well, you go on thinking that," Sakura replied, brushing her hair. "It wasn't a matter of choice—she wanted to see me, since I was already at their house. And technically, it's not even a relationship," she added a bit guiltily. She hadn't felt the least bit bad about the whole bet—not when she thought Syaoran was simply a complete jerk. But now that she'd seen the many, _many_ different sides of him, she felt butterflies—the bad kind—whenever she thought of the bet, not only because she was scared of getting caught, but also because...well, frankly, he didn't deserve it...not entirely, anyway.

Tomoyo watched Sakura in silence, noticing the guilt in her voice. _She shouldn't feel _that_ guilty...after all, he's doing the same thing to her...even if it's for the sake of his friend._

Sakura yawned as she sat on the bed next to Tomoyo. "Being with Syaoran confuses me a lot," she admitted in a low whisper.

Tomoyo was a bit surprised by the sudden level of seriousness in Sakura's voice. "Is it that bad now?"

"I don't know...I know I've told you that before, but...he'll act so different at such random times. One moment, he'll be the sweetest guy, and then the next, a complete jerk...it's really difficult to handle. I don't know how he feels about me."

Tomoyo raised her eyebrows. "You actually care how he feels about you?"

Sakura looked up, realizing what she'd just said, and shook her head vigorously. "No, no, that's not what I meant!"

Tomoyo looked at her skeptically.

Sakura sighed and lay back on the bed. "Okay, so...maybe I care...just a little bit. But can you blame me? I'm dating him, I might as well want him to like me..."

"But you're doing it on a bet," Tomoyo reminded her gently. A little more prodding, and maybe Sakura would consider dating Syaoran seriously...

"Don't remind me," Sakura groaned. "I'm already feeling awful about it. I'm going to try to sleep it off. 'Night, Tomoyo." She turned over and got under the blankets, nearly raising them over her head.

Tomoyo sighed. Maybe she'd prodded a little _too_ much... "'Night, Sakura."

* * *

Sunday was passing by very slowly for Sakura.

She'd woken up early, as usual, made breakfast, and gone out with Tomoyo to the grocery store for a bit...and then, she'd come home, and rather uncharacteristically finished her homework, since she'd had nothing to do. All in all, it was like any other ordinary Sunday, except for one thing: she could not get Syaoran Li—or the bet—out of her mind.

Half of her knew that she was being irrational; of course she was only dating him on a bet, and who knew why he'd agreed to even go out with her...so naturally, they weren't a real couple. But the other half of her was wild with hope, going back over the moments where Syaoran had revealed a different, softer side, albeit somewhat roughly and rather abruptly, but that was what made those moments so sweet.

And then, all over again, she'd scold herself, telling herself that it was nothing, that the relationship was a complete fake—and she'd feel absolutely horrible about deceiving him.

So, as minutes passed by at a snail's pace, Sakura went around the town, around her house, looking for things to do to get Syaoran off of her mind. And yet, nothing seemed to work.

Finally, at dinner, Touya noticed her stupor and interrupted her thoughts. "Hey, Kaijuu, you haven't touched your food yet. You usually eat more than I do," he said, scowling.

"Huh?" Sakura looked up and briefly locked eyes with Tomoyo, who was also staring at her a bit curiously. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm just tired."

Touya looked at her suspiciously, but eventually went back to talking with Yukito, who was over for dinner that night.

After dinner, as Touya, Yukito, Sakura, and Tomoyo made their way to the living room to watch a movie, Tomoyo pulled her aside. "What's going on? You haven't spoken all day," she said in a whisper.

Sakura leaned against the wall of the dark hallway, closing her eyes. "I think this might be starting to become more like the real thing."

Tomoyo raised her eyebrows. "You mean—"

"I'm not saying I like him. I'm just saying...I care about how he feels. And in the beginning, I didn't. Something's changed," Sakura muttered worriedly, looking at the floor.

Tomoyo tried not to grin foolishly to herself. It was only a matter of time... "Well, keep talking to him. See what happens. Maybe you'll fall for him," she said tentatively.

Sakura looked up sharply. "I can't."

"Why not?" Tomoyo retorted, frowning.

Sakura sighed. "You know why—look at me. And look at him. And besides, I don't know why he's going out with me, but it sure isn't because he likes me."

It was Tomoyo's turn to look at the floor, but that was only so Sakura wouldn't see the guilt in her eyes. "Don't say things like that. You're gorgeous, Sakura. You just don't see it. And besides, why would he be going out with you if he didn't like you?" Of course, Tomoyo knew exactly why, but she wouldn't admit it. She was convinced that there was something there that went beyond the bet—for both Syaoran and Sakura.

Sakura opened her mouth to respond, but Tomoyo cut her off. "Let's go watch the movie. I bet Yukito and Touya are waiting for us."

Sakura stared after her cousin curiously, wondering what had just taken place.

* * *

"So, what happened to you yesterday? I tried to call you three or four times last night and you never picked up."

Syaoran avoided Eriol's gaze as he responded. "I ran into Sakura," he started carefully.

They were sitting in his back yard, wrapped in their heaviest jackets and staring up at the sky, much clearer in the clean winter air than it was in the smoggy summers.

"Sakura?" Eriol said, surprised. "You spent your night with Sakura? Willingly? Maybe I'm a better etiquette teacher than I thought I was," he murmured to himself.

Syaoran halfheartedly attempted to punch Eriol in the arm, but Eriol caught his fist easily and shoved it aside. Syaoran sighed. "Don't get your hopes up. It wasn't..._willingly._ I was sort of forced into it."

"Well...details?''

"Her cousin made me go to a movie with her. And she took Yamazaki shopping with her while I watched the movie with Sakura." There was no need to give Eriol all the details.

"Tomoyo? Tomoyo went shopping with Yamazaki?" Eriol said, his brows furrowing. _She would reject me and take Yamazaki out instead?_

"I don't know what she was thinking. She said something about having to buy a gift...anyway, I tried to go home after the movie, but Yamazaki and Tomoyo left us, and I ended up taking her home."

"Wow, I'm surprised you didn't make her take the bus," Eriol said, half joking and temporarily forgetting about Tomoyo.

"Actually...she offered to. And then...I don't know how, but I ended up telling her I'd just take her home."

Eriol shook his head. "You're joking."

"I wish I was. I don't know what happened."

Eriol smirked to himself. _Yamazaki's plan seems to be working out better than I thought it would._

* * *

Sakura walked into school the next day with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Either something very good or something very bad would happen today; she could feel it.

Her morning classes were agonizingly slow. She wouldn't see Syaoran until lunch, where she would finally be able to address the fact that she couldn't get him out of her mind. After one look at him, she would be able to convince herself again that, for one thing, she was not in a real relationship with him, and for another, that he was a complete jerk.

_But still...what if he does a one-eighty on me again? _What would she do if he was actually nice to her? Surely, she'd forget entirely about trying to hate him.

Sakura sighed to herself as she made her way to her next class. _Trying_ to hate him? What had happened to hating him naturally?

This bet was turning out to be a lot more than she'd bargained for.

* * *

Eriol walked out of his second period class as the bell rang, already wishing school was over. His teachers just seemed to be churning out the homework today, and he did _not _have time for—

"Eriol!"

He stopped as he heard a familiar voice behind him and turned around to face Tomoyo, who was walking up to him with a gift bag in her hands. He forced a smile onto his face. "Good morning," he said, pleasantly enough.

"Good morning," Tomoyo chirped back happily. She held the bag up to him. "I got you a thank-you gift for inviting me to the party. It was a really good way to get to know people around here. Yamazaki helped me pick it out," she said, smiling.

Realization dawned on Eriol, and he felt foolish for ever having been jealous—or suspicious—of Yamazaki. "You went shopping with him yesterday," he said out loud, not quite meaning to.

Tomoyo laughed. "I guess it's true. Boys _do_ tell each other everything. I'm assuming Syaoran told you all the details of yesterday, then?"

Eriol smiled. "No, not all the details. But I do admit we talked pretty extensively about yesterday's events."

"Sure," Tomoyo said, grinning playfully. "Open your gift!" She pushed the bag into Eriol's hands.

Not knowing what really took over him, Eriol suddenly felt renewed hope in courting Tomoyo. He knew it was hopeless—she had a boyfriend—but something made him keep persisting. Maybe it was that smile of hers. So, instead of accepting the bag, he pushed it back into her hands. "Sorry, I can't take it."

Tomoyo frowned. "What?"

Eriol had to keep from laughing at her reaction—she was so gullible! "I'd take it if you were my girlfriend, but since you're not..." He raised his hands. "No can do."

Tomoyo narrowed her eyes. "I thought I told you, I have a boyfriend in Tokyo."

Eriol nodded. "You did. And I understand. But the day you become my girlfriend is the only day I'll accept your gift." He couldn't help it—his serious mask broken, he grinned from ear to ear.

Tomoyo felt a smile form on her own face as she began to understand. _Oh, so that's how he's going to play. _"All right, then. If you're so confident, then so be it. You won't get this _fabulous_ gift until I start dating you. _If _I ever start dating you." She turned on her heel and walked off towards her next class, waving a casual goodbye at him. Then, very abruptly, she stopped and turned for a moment. "By the way, I'm known for having incomparably strong willpower," she said confidently.

Eriol merely laughed in response and waved her goodbye.

* * *

Sakura walked into the bustling cafeteria, immediately and subconsciously searching for Syaoran while loathing herself for it. She didn't have to worry, though—he wasn't there. She saw all of his friends at his table, but his seat was empty, and there was no food in his place. There were no students in the cafeteria line; she'd gotten to lunch pretty late, as she'd had to stay late for her fourth period class to finish a test.

Sighing, she went up into the line, feeling disappointment. _But I'm only disappointed because I didn't get to clear up this situation wit him...right?_

As she got her food, she made her way to her usual spot in the back of the cafeteria. She hadn't even brought a book to read with her like she usually did, and she found herself regretting it.

This was the part of lunch she hated the most—walking across the cafeteria to get to her table. She imagined walking the plank would be much easier than walking across her high school cafeteria; it was the time of day that she got made fun of the most.

And, as if on cue, she heard a loud, intentional whisper behind her: "Is she trying to look hot or something?"

Sakura gripped her tray more tightly and sped up. The kids were talking about her haircut, she supposed. She tried to ignore it; she wasn't the one who'd wanted the haircut, anyway. It would be irrational to get upset over a comment like that. But the insults kept coming, and she stopped in her tracks as she heard what was being said.

"I'm pretty sure no matter what she did, she could never be hot. Maybe barely decent, if she tried really hard." Snickers followed.

"Or she could just put a paper bag over her head. Then she'd be doing us all a favor."

Sakura bit her lip. She had two choices: to ignore them completely, or to turn around and face them. She knew who they were—she was close to Syaoran's table, and they were male voices—so they were obviously Syaoran's friends. Naturally, her first instinct was to keep walking; she avoided confrontation at all costs. But something from the weekend had followed her to school, and she suddenly felt brave enough to turn around. So she did...and nearly dropped her tray when she saw who was sitting at the table.

Syaoran must have made his way to the cafeteria as she was in the lunch line; in her stupor, she hadn't noticed as she'd attempted to get to her table.

Now, as she locked eyes with him, the voices of the other boys were suddenly tuned out. And she knew, almost instantly, that this was not a simple matter of liking or loathing or guilt or a bet.

This was turning into something far more significant.

And, surprisingly enough, Syaoran didn't turn away—in fact, he met her gaze dead-on, as though he were trying to see right through her. His eyes were different today; rather than being rough and cold like they usually were, they seemed to be smiling at her. She wanted to look away, to get to her table, but she couldn't. She was glued to the spot. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd realized that most of the cafeteria had become silent as the other students realized that something eventful was taking place at Syaoran's table. She did, however, faintly hear the other boys still making fun of her in the background; but she didn't care, because at that moment, not only were his _eyes _smiling at her, but she could have sworn she saw the corners of his lips pull into a smile. She almost smiled back, when all of a sudden, she felt something soft hit her head, and the connection was broken.

She turned her head to see what had hit her, and the guys at the table laughed and jeered. Most of the student population in the cafeteria joined in. On the floor next to her was a roll—someone had thrown the piece of bread at her head to catch her attention.

"Hey, do us a favor and hurry up and get to your table. The way you're looking at us makes me want to throw up," said a boy on the far end of the table. The others laughed.

Sakura looked at Syaoran, expecting him to do something, but the smile had gone from his face and his eyes, and his expression was impassive and cold. She could see that he had no intention whatsoever of helping her, and she suddenly felt her blood boil.

He had promised. It was only on their first date, and they hadn't known each other very well, but he'd promised that, the next time one of his friends said something like that to her, he would stop it. And he wasn't going to.

That was fine. She could fend for herself; she didn't need his protection. She'd show him.

She turned to the boy who'd spoken and resisted the urge to toss the contents of the tray on him, her voice acerbic as she spoke. "Your ego is too big. Who said I was looking at you?"

There was a collective, stunned silence in the room for a moment, then there were several nervous giggles around the room. A couple of students clapped. Sakura could feel Syaoran's eyes on her now, but she refused to look at him. Looking at him would be like giving in.

The boy turned red, but he quickly recovered. "You must be looking at _somebody_ at this table, since you've been standing there blushing for five minutes," he retorted. "What, are you in love with one of us or something?"

Sakura opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. "_Are you in love with one of us?_"

Was she?

No, she wasn't in love. But she'd begun to understand that her feelings for Syaoran had transcended mere semi-friendship, and she most definitely could not loathe him the way she'd used to.

"Looks like I'm on point, then," the boy continued, seeing that Sakura was not going to reply. "Whoever it is, just do yourself a favor and give up. And stop trying to improve yourself," he said, indicating to her haircut by pointing to his head. "Whatever you try, it's not going to work. I thought you were smart enough to realize that, since you've had the same hair since middle school, but I guess I overestimated you—"

Sakura felt herself blush furiously, tears of anger springing to her eyes. She tried to block out the boy's voice as he continued, the laughs around the cafeteria growing louder. It had never been this bad before; why were they choosing to torment her _now_? She saw a teardrop fall onto her tray and cursed herself for crying in front of them. She'd never actually cried in front of her schoolmates before.

And then, she heard his voice, and she was too shocked to even think coherent thoughts.

"That's enough," Syaoran called out from the other end of the table, his voice and face still impassive, but loud and naturally authoritative.

The boy looked over at Syaoran, surprised. "Syaoran, what's the big deal? It's not like—"

"It's not like you don't do it every day? I know," Syaoran said coldly, getting up from his seat. "But guess what? It's stopping. Now." He strode over to where Sakura stood, her tray of food still in her hands. "You're an asshole for saying that stuff to her. She's done nothing to deserve it." Sakura felt a tinge of shock as he very suddenly put his arm around her waist. "And I like her haircut," he added, and then he steered her out of the cafeteria and into the courtyard, leaving most of the student population completely shocked as to what had just happened.

Syaoran sat under a tree in the courtyard, Sakura following. She set her tray of food in her lap, although it'd be useless to eat now; she wasn't hungry anymore, and it was far too cold outside for the food to stay warm. The two were silent for awhile, not talking or looking at each other, and then Syaoran spoke emotionlessly, watching his breath come out in puffs as he spoke. "Are you all right?"

Sakura nodded. She didn't think she'd be able to control the bewildering mixture of emotions inside of her if she opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry about that guy. I've never really liked him. And I'm sorry...you know, about not defending you any earlier. What you said to him was pretty funny, though," he said, chuckling to himself.

Sakura felt herself smile slightly. Syaoran seemed to understand that she didn't want to speak, so he continued.

"Most of those guys are decent. They're just too easily influenced by what's going on around them. And not all of them are very smart," he said, tapping his own head, as if it would help make his point.

Sakura nodded, still unable to look at him. Who knew what kind of words would spill out of her mouth if she looked at him? She was so confused—she hated him for being so late in defending her, loved him for keeping his promise and coming through so valiantly, hated herself for ever making a bet to date him, was shocked at the fact that she'd talked back to her assailant—and, in the midst of all of these feelings, she was bound to say something she'd regret.

"And just so you know, I wasn't lying. I really do like your haircut," he said, and Sakura felt her heart thud at twice its pace as he reached over and, in a slightly hesitant, tender, almost childlike manner, tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Sakura felt more of her tears threatening to spill over as she finally looked at him. Why was he doing this to her? Didn't he understand the torture of it all?

"What's wrong?" He said, his brows furrowing as he saw the look on her face. "Are you still upset over that guy? Don't be—"

Finally, Sakura managed to say something. "I can't keep doing this," she whispered, and she got up and walked away.

* * *

Syaoran looked for Sakura in all of his afternoon classes, as she was in a few of them with him, but she never appeared. He assumed she'd gone home, but he was confused as to what had happened during lunch. _"I can't keep doing this."_ What couldn't she keep doing? Dating him?

Whatever the circumstance, he could _not_ let her stop dating him now. He'd come too far. The challenge was in the bag; Yamazaki would go to college for sure if he could just last these next two weeks. And it really didn't seem that bad anymore...

The final bell rang, and Syaoran walked out of school in a daze, not bothering to meet up with Yamazaki and Eriol and making his way towards the street that would lead him home. He looked around for Sakura in the mass of students leaving the school, but she was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, someone pulled him to the side, nearly making him fall over. "Hey, what—" He whirled around, then sighed in relief. It was only Tomoyo. "Hey, Tomoyo. Now isn't a good time—"

"I have to talk to you," she said in a voice that indicated that it was urgent. She pulled him over to the playground nearby the school, sitting herself on a swing and indicating that he do the same.

Syaoran sat next to her and looked at her curiously. "What's up?"

Tomoyo swung slowly, her hands gripping the cold chains of the swings. "I heard about what happened today."

"Oh, yeah, that—I really would have defended her earlier, I swear—"

"Syaoran, do you like Sakura?"

* * *

That's all for now! I hope that wasn't too big of a cliffhanger. I'd originally planned a bigger cliffhanger, so this one's a bit smaller in comparison...anyway, once again, sorry if the characters seem all over the place. I'm trying to transition them smoothly, but it's rather difficult XD; But they're getting to that almost-like stage, yay! Haha, it's taking me long enough to get there. --; Once again, sorry if I'm moving too fast—if you think I am, tell me in the reviews; additionally, if there's anything that doesn't make sense in this chapter, please inform me. I wrote most of this when I was half-asleep, but deeply inspired. XD Thanks for reading! Please review!

Ja,

-Franny


	8. Decision

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hello! Thanks for all the sweet reviews on the last chapter, everyone! I loved every single one, but the long reviews made me smile the most. :) It's always nice to know what you guys liked and didn't like; it gives me more insight as to what to write next. I'm sorry for not updating for two months or so—these last few months of school have been ridiculous and hectic and stressful, but I've been working diligently on updating this, believe it or not. :D I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Chapter 8:** Decision

"What?" Syaoran looked at Tomofyo sharply, although he'd understood what she had said perfectly.

"You heard me," Tomoyo said, looking dead at him. The swing creaked lightly as she moved back and forth. "And be honest."

Syaoran made an exasperated face. "I barely know you."

Tomoyo nodded. "I know. But she's my cousin, and I intend on helping her through her problems—and you seem to be one."

"I'm a problem?" He frowned. Maybe he was still being too rude? He'd have to fix that if he wanted to keep going out with her for the rest of the month.

"Well...maybe not you specifically But...ah, she's going to kill me for telling you this, but she tells me that you confuse her. All the time. She doesn't know what you want," Tomoyo said, finally looking at him. She stopped swinging, her face kind but serious. "I need an honest answer. I won't tell her anything. But _I_ just want to figure out how I can help her."

Syaoran deliberated a moment, and then he heaved a sigh. There was no point in lying, anyway, even if Tomoyo was a bit of a stranger...after all, he'd pretty much exposed all of what he thought about Sakura in the cafeteria today, in front of hundreds of kids. He'd been rather enigmatic about it, sure, but at least now they knew that he didn't dislike her.

And then, to both his surprise and Tomoyo's, he chuckled. Tomoyo looked at him like he was deranged, but Syaoran explained quickly. "Actually, you can tell her you told me...because she told me herself." He paused a moment, taking his hands off the chains of the swing and sticking them into his pockets—a habit he'd picked up in his childhood. "I'd said something about her having an inconsistent personality, and then she completely lashed out on me and told me that I confused her."

She laughed, surprised at the boldness on Sakura's part. While it may not have been so bold for other girls, Sakura so rarely spoke her mind—and to someone like Syaoran, of all people.

"And to answer your question honestly..." Syaoran started swinging gently, although his feet did not leave the ground. "Well, I don't_ not_ like her," he said sheepishly. He did not look at Tomoyo as he said this.

"Syaoran, that's not really answering my question. That's sort of avoiding it altogether," Tomoyo said dryly.

"I know. But...there's not much of a better way to describe it."

She rolled her eyes. "Humor me. Describe it as best you can."

Syaoran didn't know what compelled him to give in to this pushy stranger's commands, but he felt comfortable talking with her about this, somehow, so he spoke. "It's kind of complicated. There are...conditions to this thing that you don't know about..." He trailed off.

Tomoyo had to keep herself from laughing. She knew a lot more than he thought.

He straightened up. "In any case, because of these conditions, it's hard to be really honest with how I feel about dating her. I guess...I don't know. I'll admit that there's something attractive about her. I don't know what it is. And I'm really surprised I actually get along with her, because she never stands up for herself, and I hate people like that." He sighed. "But no matter how passive she is...she's a good person. I don't know if I've ever met a girl as good-intentioned as she is. It's so hard to stay angry at her."

Tomoyo blanched slightly at that. Technically, Sakura wasn't as good as he made her out to be. Quickly, she recomposed her face and nodded. "Well, thank you. For being honest, I mean. I think I can understand what you're saying." But she didn't get up—an indicator that the conversation wasn't over.

Syaoran looked at her warily. "You want to know more, I'm guessing?"

Tomoyo smiled. "You're too perceptive."

"What do you want to know?" Syaoran said with a sigh. _Why am I doing this again?_

"Why'd you say yes to her?" She looked at him carefully, watching for a reaction.

It worked. Syaoran froze, his posture rigid and his face revealing the slightest traces of surprise.

"Syaoran?"

Almost instantly, the surprise in his face was gone, and back was the usual serious expression he wore. "Uh...right. Well, I don't...I don't really know. She'd asked me once before, but I hadn't really been interested in dating anyone, so I'd told her no. But I...had a change of heart, I guess you could say...and I felt kind of bad—I'd cut her leg with my skate at the ice rink, and..." He trailed off lamely.

"So you went out with her because you felt sorry?"

"I...well, kind of."

"You're not telling the whole truth here," Tomoyo said, her voice slightly teasing.

Syaoran looked at her defensively. "Well, that's because the real reason I said yes is dumb, okay?"

Tomoyo shrugged. "I can handle dumb. I won't laugh at you."

Syaoran opened his mouth, about to protest, but he gave up. She'd just keep bothering him till he gave her the truth—or, enough of the truth, anyway. He threw his hands up in the air, sighing. "Okay. Well, there was this thing about her eyes—" he paused, glancing over at her furtively to make sure she was taking him seriously. "—there was something in them when I told her no...it drove me mad. It freaked me out. I couldn't stop seeing the look in her eyes in the back of my head all day, so when she finally asked me, it just drove me to say yes."

"So you really _are_ dating her out of pity, then!" Tomoyo replied in an accusatory tone, hoping for the right reaction, the indicator she needed...

"No, I'm not!" Syaoran shot back, a reflex reaction. His defenses went up immediately, and his mind turned to his strongest cover: the truth. "I—okay, you wanna know what scares me?" He was rambling now, unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. "All of the stuff that that jerk was saying at the lunch table to her today...I couldn't stand it. She's not perfect, but what he was saying wasn't true at _all._ And it made me so angry, I wanted to punch him in the mouth to shut him up." He tried to still his hands, which were shaking in his pockets, and he continued. "She keeps changing on me, and I keep liking it. I'm not supposed to! But every time I see her, it gets more..." He trailed off again. The last words came out in a murmur: "It gets more complicated."

Tomoyo smiled. That was all that she needed. She could hear the hesitation, the affection in his voice—and, as long as all went well for the next few weeks, she would be able to set them up. _Perfect._ She stood up. "Well, I guess I'd better get going."

Syaoran stood up with her, bewildered at her sudden move to end the conversation. "Is that everything?"

Tomoyo picked her bag up from the ground as she spoke. "Well, there is one more thing..." She wouldn't look at him.

Syaoran made an exasperated face, but he laughed. "There's not much more I could do now, I've pretty much explained everything."

"Well, I just want you to call Sakura tonight." Tomoyo handed Syaoran a slip of paper with Sakura's cell phone number on it. "I suspect she's feeling sort of down right now. She could use someone to cheer her up."

_Now I have to call her? At this rate..._ "I can't. You do it. You'd be better at cheering her up than I would."

Tomoyo laughed. "You'd be surprised. It won't hurt. It'll only take five minutes. Please?"

Syaoran deliberated a moment, then raised his hands in defeat. "Hell, why not? I've already done everything else you could possibly ask me for," he said in mock anger.

"Thank you, really. For answering all of those questions. You have more patience than I gave you credit for," Tomoyo laughed.

Syaoran grinned. "No problem. But I'm starting to wonder what kind of mistake I've just made by telling you all of this."

"Oh, no mistake at all," Tomoyo said, and she smiled and walked away.

* * *

"Kaijuu, you're home early," Touya noted as Sakura trudged her way through the door. "Where's Tomoyo?"

Sakura looked up from the ground, looking dazed. "What?" Not without some guilt, she'd skipped her afternoon classes and wandered aimlessly around town with nothing but Syaoran on her mind. When she saw that it was nearing three o'clock, she'd made her way home.

Touya frowned. "Are you okay? You don't look so good." He strode over to her and touched her forehead. "You don't have a fever..."

Sakura pulled away. "I'm fine. I'm just tired," she said, plastering a smile onto her face. The last thing she needed right now was for her brother to get involved in the mess that she'd created. "I'll be in my room," she said, and started making her way toward the stairs.

"Not so fast." Touya pulled her back by her bookbag.

"Hey, what's the big idea—" Sakura stopped protesting as soon as she saw Touya's face. He wasn't fooling around anymore—there was genuine concern written all over his expression.

"You were never very good at hiding things, Sakura."

Sakura nodded. "I know." _Ah, jeez. He's more serious than I thought he'd be...he's not calling me kaijuu. _

"So tell me what's going on."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "It's a little complicated..."

"Sakura," Touya said sternly. "You know I only want to help—"

"If you knew everything, you wouldn't help, you'd just blow up."

Touya raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Would I blow up at you or at another person?"

In spite of herself, Sakura let out a giggle. "Probably both."

"Well," Touya said with an exasperated sigh, "since it seems like you're more yourself now...I'll let it go, whatever it is you're not telling me. But if I keep seeing you like this, I'll tell Otou-san, and then you definitely won't be able to get out of it. Got it?" He said, rumpling Sakura's hair.

Sakura sighed. Sometimes, he still treated her like she was two. "Got it." She turned around and walked up the stairs, feeling completely drained.

_I have to call this off. This is going way too far,_ she thought to herself as she tossed her bag aside and flopped onto her bed. She couldn't keep doing this to herself or to Syaoran—there was too much pressure and far too much risk. They were just starting to get along...she was just starting to get to him...

If he found out, all of that would be over.

Tomorrow, she decided, she would confront Mai and end the bet. She didn't care what kind of ridicule she'd have to endure, as long as Syaoran didn't find out.

"Sakura!" Tomoyo sang, walking into the room.

Sakura raised a hand in acknowledgement, not moving from her spot on the bed.

"You weren't in class this afternoon. Did something happen?"

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Don't act like you didn't hear what happened." She felt the bed sink a little lower as Tomoyo sat by her.

"I heard _that _part," Tomoyo said, playing idly with strands of her hair. "But why would that make you run away from school?" Sakura didn't reply, so Tomoyo continued. "He's starting to care about you. There's no way you could not see that. That's a _good_ thing, Sakura."

"But it's not," Sakura sighed. "Have you forgotten what started all of this? I feel so rotten. If I hadn't taken that stupid bet..."

Tomoyo bit her lip. Suddenly, carrying both Sakura's secret and Syaoran's seemed like a huge burden. It was so hard to keep her mouth shut. "Look," she said, trying not to reveal the restraint in her voice. "Don't think about the bet right now. Just enjoy what's happening. Syaoran is a good guy—"

"Which is exactly why I'm having such a hard time deceiving him," Sakura interrupted. She sat up. "I'm calling this thing off with Mai tomorrow."

Tomoyo's eyes went wide with surprise and mild horror. "Sa-Sakura, you can't!"

"I have to. I can't live with myself like this."

_But they're _perfect_ together,_ Tomoyo thought to herself, but she held her tongue. "Well...if that's how you really feel about it..." But she wouldn't let something as small as this stop the relationship. Some way or another—on her life—Sakura and Syaoran were going to end up together. They had to.

* * *

Around seven in the evening, Sakura's cell phone rang, an unknown number on the screen. She'd been lying in bed, agonizing over how she'd confront Mai the next day, when the ring of her phone surprised her so badly that she'd literally jumped out of her bed.

Squinting at the number, she answered the phone cautiously; she'd gotten way too many prank calls in the past, and she was not in the mood to put up with one tonight. "Hello?"

"Is this Sakura?" The voice was familiar. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. There was only one person she knew whose voice was as aggressive and demanding as the one that spoke to her now, but...it couldn't would _he_ call her?

"Um...who's asking?"

"I want to know why you got up and walked away from me today," the voice said.

Sakura froze. It really was Syaoran. Abandoning all logical thought, her mind went into a flurry of horror. She couldn't talk to him—not now, not when she was figuring out how to repent for the horrible thing she'd done to him—

"I'm waiting," Syaoran said, interrupting her panic session.

_Say something!_ "How'd you get my number?" _Smart, Sakura. Fantastic reply,_ she chastised herself wryly.

"I asked you a question first." The smugness in his voice made her want to hang up on him.

"W-well, I..." She briefly contemplated telling him the truth: _I've been using you to prove myself to a bunch of girls who aren't even worth the time, and I couldn't stand it anymore. _Of course, the words that came out of her mouth were nothing like that. "I was...I've been stressed about a lot of stuff. And you were right, I was upset about that guy...I guess it just kind of pushed me over the edge."

She heard Syaoran exhale into the phone. "So...'I can't do this anymore—' that didn't mean you can't _date_ me anymore, right?"

"Um...right."_Wrong._She'd have to call it off tomorrow, anyway...

"Oh, okay. Good."

"Was...was that all you called for?" Sakura tried to lie down, hoping it would ease her heart, which was thumping furiously and painfully in a rush of panic and confusion and admittedly, excitement. She'd been on a date with him, but he'd never called her willingly before. She shook her head; the images of that afternoon—Syaoran putting his arm almost protectively around her waist, touching her hair—were suddenly going through her brain on instant replay, even though she'd steadfastly kept those images at bay all day till now.

"Actually, I kind of..." She heard him stop and sigh. "Forget it," he said softly, stubbornly.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, I..." Silence again.

Sakura giggled.

"_What?_" Syaoran said, his voice getting defensive.

"You can't finish any of your sentences tonight. I think this is the first time I've heard you so speechless," Sakura replied, trying to stifle the laughter.

"Shut up," she heard him mutter into the phone, but he didn't sound angry. "Anyway," he continued, "just to prove you wrong, I_ meant_ to call you to ask you if you were all right. From this afternoon."

Sakura stopped laughing, surprised at how earnest he sounded. She had to be imagining it. "Er...yeah, I'm okay."

"Well, that's good."

"Yeah. Thanks."

There was a long, awkward silence, until Syaoran sighed and finally spoke. "Are you telling the truth?"

"What?" Sakura was bewildered. "What do you mean?"

"Are you really okay? I don't know whether to believe you. I mean, I knew you'd be upset over what happened, but it kind of went beyond that. You were so down," he said very quietly, as though he were worried that someone was listening in on the conversation.

Sakura couldn't respond for a few moments. She should have been used to his ever-changing moods by now, but it was a bit surreal for Syaoran to be so concerned about her, especially after he'd begun the conversation by demanding to know why she'd abandoned him earlier.

"Sakura?"

Sakura shook her head to clear it. "Yeah, sorry. I'm fine, really. I was just kind of overwhelmed. Like I said, it wasn't just what happened in the cafeteria. It's more like...that was the last straw. Things keep piling up. It's stressing me out."

"I don't know, it seems like it's more than that," he insisted.

_That's because I'm going crazy with guilt right now..._ "I'm fine," she repeated. She couldn't possibly imagine what was going through Syaoran's mind right now. He'd never probed into her problems like this before; he'd merely ignored them. What was he trying to get at—why did he want the truth so badly, especially when Sakura was offering for him to ignore it?

"So then...I don't get it. Why would you leave me just because you're stressed out? I was trying to cheer you up, you know."

"Can we just not talk about it?" Sakura said, getting uncomfortable.

"No. I want to know," he said, and there was no mistake about it—there was definitely an aggressiveness in his voice that wasn't there before.

Sakura gritted her teeth, her frustration and discomfort growing by the moment. She couldn't keep talking to him so personally like this—the guilt was killing her. Her voice shook slightly with the effort not to yell, resulting in a half-strained cross between a shout and a whisper. "Just leave me alone. I'm gonna go now."

But he spoke back quickly, not ready to give in. "No! I want to know what exactly was going through your mind when you walked away from me today!"

Sakura laughed bitterly, her composure all but cracking with the pressure that he was putting on her. "You're so vain—is that all you care about, why I left you? God, you must think pretty damn highly of yourself. I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to walk away from you. Excuse me." _This is good,_ she thought. She didn't want to feel guilty. The easiest way was to be angry with him, right?

"You know that's not what I mean. Don't turn this around on me. I want to know what set you off so badly that you couldn't even bear to stay at school for the rest of the day," Syaoran replied with a tone that only surfaced when he was angry—the same authoritative tone he'd used with the boy at lunch that day.

"If you want to know that badly, then fine! Why don't you just go look in a mirror?" Sakura shouted, not caring anymore to keep her voice down, and she found herself breathing hard, as if she'd just run a great distance. _Damn it. Why did I say that?_

There was a shocked silence, and then Syaoran spoke—quietly, once again—into the phone. "W-was it really me?" All traces of the aggression were gone, and in a typical fashion, his tone had switched from authoritative and angry to guilty and bewildered.

Sakura felt the tears from that afternoon resurface. _In more ways than you can imagine._ "No," she said, her voice breaking and betraying her words. "I didn't...I didn't mean it," she said, and she tried unsuccessfully to control her voice.

She heard him curse in frustration, and then, "But you did mean it. Because if you didn't, you wouldn't sound so hurt. So what did I do?"

Maybe it was the interrogation she'd just gone through, or the release of the dam that had been inside of her since earlier that day, or just that desire to rid herself of her own guilt. And more than likely, part of it was in the way he asked—soft and unsure of himself, so different from the way he usually was. So she answered, letting everything pour out, gritty details and all. "You really want to know what you did? You left me hanging on a string! The first time we hung out, you _promised_ that you would make your asshole friends leave me alone. And today, you didn't for awhile, and that guy wouldn't shut up, and the things he said...they were so fucking _humiliating_, Syaoran! I was scared. I hated it—I hated feeling scared because some jerk was saying things to me, and I couldn't figure out _why_ it felt so scary...

"And then I thought about it some more, and I realized it was because the entire time he was making fun of me, you didn't say a word, and I thought you'd stopped caring. And then...I wondered if you ever really cared at all. But then, you did come through, and you got me out of there, and I felt this incredible gratitude, because you really did live up to your word. But it's so confusing...I'm thankful for it, and then again, I'm angry that you waited that long, and there's still that part of me that wonders if you've cared one bit this entire time...and if you don't, I can't...I can't blame you, because..." _Because what I'm doing to you right now is worse than all of that combined._

She let out a sob, not because she was angry at him, but because no matter what she accused him of, he could never betray her the way she'd done to him. She felt like she'd sold her soul to the devil by taking part in this bet. Despite everything he put her through, Syaoran was a _good_ person. No matter how long he'd waited, he'd kept his promise, and he'd gone even further than he'd promised—he'd defended her in front of the entire cafeteria, shameless and unafraid of everyone who was watching. He didn't deserve this—he didn't deserve any of it. There was no way she could keep going through with this, she'd _have_ to call this off tomorrow—

She realized then how silent he was. She couldn't even hear him breathing. _Did he hang up on me?_ She wouldn't blame him if he had. She'd just yelled at him and cried over something that didn't even really matter, not in the end. She spoke timidly into the phone. "Are you still there?"

There were a few more seconds of silence, but just as Sakura was about to hang up, he suddenly spoke. "Are you at home?"

"Yeah," Sakura said, wondering where this was going.

"Then don't go anywhere. I'm coming over."

"Wait, what?" Sakura said, shock filling her already emotionally worn-out mind. "Syaoran, don't—"

But he'd already hung up, and he was most likely already on his way.

She sighed shakily to herself. "Great." Seeing him now would only make her feel guiltier; she didn't know if she'd be able to take it. How would she even be able to look at him now? She stuffed her face into her pillow and let out a good, long scream.

And what exactly was he planning on doing by going to her house? Maybe he felt like he needed to yell back at her in person. Perhaps she wouldn't feel so guilty during his visit after all.

Then, she realized that she'd been yelling into the phone for the past few minutes, and listened for a moment to make sure no one outside her room had overheard. She heard sounds of the TV downstairs, and sighed thankfully; Tomoyo and Touya were both probably down there, watching.

Not wanting Syaoran to ring her doorbell and cause a riot with her brother, she went downstairs herself, told her cousin and her brother that she was going out for a walk, and sat out on her front lawn, waiting for Syaoran to drive up.

* * *

"Tomoyo?" Touya kept his eyes trained on the television screen as he spoke to his cousin.

"Hm?" She replied, sipping her drink out of a straw.

"What's been going on with Sakura?"

Tomoyo's eyes went wide for a few seconds, and then she quickly regained her composure. "Nothing, why?"

"She's been acting weird," Touya murmured, more to himself than to her. "It's worrying me a little."

Tomoyo tried to laugh it off. "Well, she _is_ a girl...in high school...and in her teens. She's going to act weird every once in awhile."

"This is different."

"Maybe you don't want to know what's going on in her life. Maybe you'd be happier and less worried not knowing."

"What are you saying? Are you saying you know something I don't?"

"No," Tomoyo quickly replied, shutting her mouth for good.

* * *

Syaoran sighed tiredly as he got into his car. He sat there for a moment without doing anything, not bothering to turn the ignition on.

This was not good.

Despite all the times he'd reminded himself that he needed to stay away, he was, indeed, getting too attached. If the incident this afternoon hadn't proved it, then what he'd just done most definitely proved it.

_Leave it to Sakura to guilt trip me into going out of my way to make her feel better._ He had felt guiltier than ever when she'd confessed everything on the phone—and the fact that she was crying didn't help matters much. He was human—it was human of him to care if someone cried and he was the one responsible for it—but this was beyond that. He'd felt something heavier and sharper in the pit of his stomach as he listened to her wonder aloud if he really cared about her, and that was what made him get off the phone and into the car.

Almost against his will, he felt his hand move toward the ignition, and before he could blink, his car revved to life and he was moving down the road at a breakneck speed. How did he manage to do all this without even realizing that he was doing it?

It was a lack of control, that was what it was. He'd always been so careful about everything in his life—his world was built around a schedule that he strictly adhered to, but this was so different. Everything was spontaneous with Sakura—meeting her randomly in places he didn't want to meet her, spending days with her when he just needed to be alone, and now... _What the hell am I doing?_ He stopped the car, getting ready to turn around, but at the last second, he saw the flash of her green eyes in his mind and went forward instead. _God, I'm going crazy._ But even if it was a lack of control, all of these actions were of his own free will, weren't they?

In another situation, this sort of attachment would be okay—in fact, it would probably be encouraged, since his friends always got onto him about never going out with anyone—but the problem was that this relationship was _not real._ It was based on a bet that he and his friends had made, and it would not last. Even if he wanted to stay in a relationship with her after the month was up, she would eventually find out, some way or another...and, of course, after that, all hell would break loose. It was as simple as that.

And another worry came to mind: what would happen when he had to end the relationship? He was so caught up in making sure she didn't find out about the bet that he hadn't even thought of what her reaction would be if he suddenly broke up with her.

If he ended it for no reason, he would most likely hurt her feelings and initiate some long-lasting grudge; and if he broke up with her and told her _why_ he had to break up with her, or why he'd even gone out with her in the first place, then she'd most definitely hate him forever. She'd think he was scum, that everything he'd said and done was completely fake—but in all reality, his actions were so genuine that it scared him.

And the worst part?

He actually cared.

* * *

It was beyond freezing outside. Sakura mentally cursed herself for not wearing a jacket, and she felt like an idiot as she rubbed her arms, trying to circulate warmth through the long sleeves of her shirt.

Before long, she heard the quiet roar of Syaoran's car and braced herself. She hoped he wouldn't cause too much commotion; the last thing she needed was her brother coming out and finding out what was happening.

The car screeched to a halt on the side of the road, and Syaoran got out in a surprisingly quiet manner, closing the door quietly and walking over to her slowly. She couldn't see his face very well, but his body language scared her—she'd rather have had him charging at her and yelling and getting in her face—but she managed to retain her fear and waved to him. "Hi." She sat on the edge of her front lawn, and without a word, he sat down next to her, their positions identical: knees drawn up to the chest, arms resting on the knees, neither looking at the other but instead out at the road in front of them.

She expected him to say something first; after all, _he_ was the one who'd wanted to come over. But he said nothing, no matter how long she waited, and after awhile, she spoke timidly, wondering what was going on. "U-um...are you...why are you here?"

For another minute or so, he didn't speak. Then, he sighed, and very uncharacteristically, he slumped over, his head resting on his arms. He was in a relaxed position for once, but for some reason, he looked tenser than ever.

_Okay, now this is starting to scare me,_ Sakura thought. _Is he hurting somewhere?_ She reached over to touch him gently on the shoulder. "Syaoran?" She was surprised when he didn't move away from her touch. "What's wrong?"

No response.

_What on earth is wrong with him?_ Now that the mood was so somber, Sakura felt foolish for ever having thought Syaoran was going to yell at her, for even thinking that this was _about_ her, because there was no way that anything having to do with her could make him this upset...right? She tried again. "Did...did something happen at home?"

There was another minute-long silence that felt like it lasted for hours, and then he sat up. Sakura took one look at his face and a sense of déjà vu came over her; instead of closed off and hard-set like it usually was, his face was wide open, betraying his emotions, just like that afternoon...but unlike that afternoon, the emotions written on his face were not those of kindness, but of...was it sadness? Maybe it was pain. But over what? He opened his mouth to speak, and Sakura waited in anticipation, holding her breath without realizing it. What had he brought her all the way out here for?

"Did I..." Syaoran stopped, trying to reword what he wanted to say. "This afternoon...was it...was it really bad? I mean, I could've..." He faltered, and his voice was so quiet, and there was a tinge of shame to it, like the voice of a child who'd been caught doing something particularly bad.

Sakura let out the breath she'd been holding in one big whoosh, relief and confusion competing with each other as the primary emotions in her mind. "Is that all you're worried about?" She laughed shakily and lightly slapped his arm. "You scared me half to death, you know—"

Syaoran turned and took her face in his hands, soft and warm in stark contrast to the cold air surrounding them, surprising her into silence. "Sakura." He turned the full force of his eyes on her, his expression searching.

Sakura felt her breath hitch and her heart beat uncontrollably again, and she wondered wildly to herself if Syaoran could hear it. She managed to let out a single-word response, although it came out funny because of the way he was holding her face. "Y-yes?"

"Answer me." It was not a command as it would have been in a normal situation; it was a plea. The guilt in his eyes was plain and clear.

It was moving, really, that he felt so concerned for whether or not he'd hurt her. It was a really nice change from the way their "relationship" had started out. But she couldn't make him feel bad—not now, not when her own conscience was under fire for what she'd done. So she shook her head no. "It's fine. Don't beat yourself up for what happened today—"

"But what you said on the phone..." He was no longer looking at her, although his hands were still on her face; instead, his eyes had trailed off to the ground, unable to hold her gaze for the shame he felt. His brows were furrowed in worry and frustration—but was it really at himself? After weeks of thinking of Syaoran as self-centered, Sakura found it difficult to believe that he could feel this bad for something that had happened to _her—_and in truth, hadn't even been his fault.

Sakura wished she could laugh at the irony. It was as though they were experiencing a mutual agony, but his was completely undeserved. His hands fell back to his knees where they'd been resting before, and Sakura felt the strangest urge to take them into her own. "What I said on the phone doesn't matter—"

But he wasn't listening. He shook his head, still unable to look at her. "There are things going on here that you don't understand..."

_Things I don't understand? _"Uh..."

He finally looked up. "I'll make it up to you." He looked so eager and serious all of a sudden that the change in the mood startled Sakura all over again. "You're not going anywhere for vacation, are you?"

"No..." She was confused as to why he'd ask. "But, Syaoran, what are you trying to make up for? You haven't done anything—"

He held a hand out to stop her, and she was about to protest—she could only be interrupted so many times without feeling a bit annoyed—but she saw the look on his face and shut her mouth. When he spoke, it seemed as though he was choosing his words very carefully. "I've decided," he said, "that while this lasts, I want to enjoy myself. And I want you to enjoy yourself."

_What is he talking about?_ A feeling of uneasiness came over Sakura, sending chills down her spine. There was something key that she was missing out on here. And there was an odd strain in his voice—a held-back frustration, as though he wanted to fill her in on what she was missing, but he couldn't.

"Look, I don't know what happened in the time that we started going out, but something's different." He struggled with his next few words, opening his mouth to say something and then closing it again. There it was again—that vulnerability and lack of usual self-assurance that always threw Sakura off guard. Finally, he spoke again, but very slowly. "I think...I don't know. It's weird. I thought I wouldn't—" He looked away from her and continued. "No offense, but I thought, when we first started going out, that I wouldn't care about you. I thought you wouldn't matter."

Sakura couldn't help but flinch at the brutal honesty. Of course, this came as no surprise; she still remembered the icy awkwardness of their first date, and although that Syaoran was gradually giving way to a slightly nicer, and sometimes even infinitely nicer version of him, she had grown to associate coldness with his character. But that didn't mean that the comment didn't hurt.

Syaoran caught the movement and rolled his eyes, briefly breaking the seriousness of the moment but relieving Sakura in the process—if he could roll his eyes at all, that meant he was at least a little bit like his normal self. "You get offended too easily. You need to let me finish. I _thought_ I wouldn't care about you...but that's not the case anymore. I care about what you think and how you feel, and God knows why. Sometimes, the things that I do—or, like today, the things that I don't do—hurt you. There are some days when I realize this and I'm just too tired to care, and then there are some days when I don't realize it. But there are also days like today—when I realize it completely and I understand, and I don't know _how_ you manage to do it, but you make me feel like the worst guy in the world. I don't like feeling like that." He smiled in spite of himself.

"So I'm going to make it up to you, like I said. If you're not going on vacation anywhere, how would you and your family like to go somewhere with my family for a few days?"

_I did not just hear that._ "What?" She squeaked, almost unable to say anything at all.

"Every holiday vacation, I go with my sisters and my mother to a place in the mountains. Usually, my mother lets me invite a few people to go with me, but I usually take just Eriol and Yamazaki. She likes you a lot, so I don't think she'd have any problem with letting you and your father and your cousin come."

It took her a moment to comprehend everything that had just happened._ Syaoran is willingly asking me to go somewhere with him. Overnight. Out of town._ She resisted a ridiculous urge to pinch herself and managed to croak out, "You're not serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He looked baffled at her reaction.

"You just...your mother _wouldn't_. She barely knows me. And she doesn't know my father at all!"

"She could meet him. And I already told you, she likes you."

"Syaoran, be realistic."

He looked frustrated. "I _am_ being realistic!"

"No, you're not! What are the chances that your mother would let a girl she met two days ago and her family tag along on what is likely to be a _very_ expensive vacation trip with her?"

Syaoran scoffed. "You don't have to worry about the money, you know. We could pay for it. After all, _I'm_ trying to make it up to you, not the other way around."

"No, I refuse to let you pay for me—"

Suddenly, the front door of Sakura's house opened, and the two turned around to see who it was.

Touya stepped out into the front lawn, rubbing his arms. "Kaijuu, what are you doing? It's freezing out here—" He stopped, seeing Syaoran. "Who's _he_?" He demanded, his voice suddenly much louder and imposing than before.

_Oh, crap._ Touya had always been a bit overprotective about boys, but Sakura had never had a problem with this before, as she'd never actually dated anyone before. So of course, she had conveniently forgotten to mention in the last few weeks that she'd been seeing someone... "Um..." She stood up and dusted herself off, and Syaoran did the same. "This is Syaoran. He's a friend of mine."

"What is he doing on my front lawn?" Touya asked, his voice flat and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Touya, be nice," Sakura hissed. She turned to Syaoran. "This is my older brother, Touya."

Syaoran walked up to Touya and held out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Touya merely looked at Syaoran's hand, and his jaw visibly hardened. He looked off to the side as though Syaoran were not there.

"Sorry," Sakura said. "My brother is being a bit immature tonight."

"Not a problem," Syaoran said. "But while I'm here...could I speak to your father?" He looked at Sakura, who glared at him with an obvious "no" written all over her face.

Touya turned his head back to Syaoran, who apparently wasn't invisible anymore, and stood up to his full height. "What do you want to see _our_ father for?"

Sakura watched in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion as Syaoran stood up to his full height, as well. It was a bit of a funny sight—Syaoran was tall, but Touya was a bit taller; however, the look on Syaoran's face made up for whatever he lacked in height. Still, Touya would not give in. "I don't think my sister wants you to see him, judging by the look on her face."

"It's not up to your sister."

"Oh, really?" Touya might as well have had steam coming out of his nostrils. "Then who is it up to?"

"Me," Syaoran replied simply. "If you'll excuse me a moment..." He stepped around Touya, who stared after him in fury and awe, and walked up to the door, about to ring the doorbell

Sakura ran up to the door as well. "Syaoran, don't!"

Syaoran looked at her. "Are you saying you don't want to go that badly?"

Sakura bit her lip. In all actuality, she did want to go, badly. A chance to get to know Syaoran better over a course of _days_—alone, without the burden of having Mai hover over them—sounded amazing. But it was so wrong. She couldn't; it would positively murder her conscience, and she could not think of anyone who absolutely did _not_ deserve a free vacation with Syaoran Li more than herself. She looked at her feet. "I...don't."

Syaoran looked at her face carefully for a moment. Then, he turned to the door and rang the doorbell.

"Syaoran, what are you doing?"

"I don't believe you. The look on your face says you do want to go."

Sakura was about to protest, but the door opened at that moment, and Fujitaka stood at the doorway. "Sakura," he said in surprise. "I didn't know you'd gone out. Who's this?" He smiled kindly at Syaoran.

"Er...Otou-san, this is Syaoran Li. Syaoran, this is my father."

Syaoran and Fujitaka shook hands, greeting each other politely. Then, Syaoran got straight to business. "I came here to discuss something with you, sir."

Fujitaka looked slightly surprised at the businesslike manner in which Syaoran spoke, but he nodded and stepped back, allowing him to walk in.

Behind her, Sakura heard a scandalized, "Otou-san!" She turned around to see Touya still standing on the lawn, looking like he was about to punch something.

Fujitaka smiled. "I'm sure it'll be fine, Touya. Why don't you come inside, too? It's cold."

* * *

"I don't know how to thank you," Fujitaka said, walking Syaoran to the door with a very defeated-looking Sakura and a positively beaming Tomoyo trailing behind. "Are you sure this is all right with your mother?"

Syaoran had just spent the past thirty minutes explaining to Sakura's father the conditions of the vacation—and to Sakura's fury and horror, he'd tweaked some of the details to make it sound more appealing, saying that his mother just happened to have four or five extra tickets lying around, meaning that there were just enough tickets for Sakura, her father, Tomoyo, and Touya. Initially, Fujitaka had been reluctant to accept, saying that he couldn't accept such a generous offer, but he'd eventually given in; Sakura had to admit that Syaoran was a very persuasive talker.

She was bracing herself for absolute heartbreak at this point, because she knew she would enjoy the trip far more than she should, and she knew that at the end, she would be completely screwed. Syaoran would think she'd completely taken advantage of him—which she had—but he would think she'd done it more than she'd meant to in reality. But she did appreciate it; her father was always working so hard, and the free vacation was probably the best thing that had happened to him in awhile.

"Oh, it's actually more like you're doing a favor for us," Syaoran responded, and he looked at Sakura with a devious grin. "I'll call tomorrow with details."

"Well, thank you again. This is very kind of you and your family." Fujitaka let Syaoran out the door, and they exchanged goodbyes. Sakura stepped out of the house as well, saying she would walk him to his car.

As soon as Fujitaka shut the door and she knew that they were alone, she sighed exasperatedly. "You're insane."

"I just might be," Syaoran replied, smiling at the truth of the statement. It was practically suicide for his "no-attachment" rule for him to be doing something like this, but he'd thrown caution to the winds. Like he'd said to Sakura earlier—he just wanted to enjoy himself now.

Then, to his surprise, he felt a hand slide into his own, and he looked at Sakura, who was stubbornly looking away from him. "But as insane as you are," she said softly, "you are incredibly nice for doing this. My father would really love something like this." She smiled and turned to look at him, secretly thrilled that he had not pulled his hand away yet.

He was rather stunned by the move on her part, impressed and confused and actually a little pleased. He smiled back. "I'm doing this for _you_ and all you can think about is how great it'll be for your father. You're a hopeless case."

Sakura laughed. "Well, thank you on my behalf, too, then."

They had reached his car by now, and they were still holding hands, both wondering who was going to let go first.

"Welcome," Syaoran said, trying to figure out why he hadn't let go of her hand yet. "Consider it payback for protecting me from your brother," he murmured, not really knowing what he was saying. Why was he feeling so drawn to her all of a sudden?

Sakura laughed quietly. "Don't worry, he's just a bit overprotective—" She stopped, realizing exactly how close they were. She could very well lay her head on his shoulder if she wanted to. But she didn't, because somehow, at the same moment that thought ran through her mind, Syaoran had suddenly leaned in and grazed her cheek with his lips, so softly that she probably would not have felt it if she hadn't seen it. She gasped sharply, her eyes widening and an odd, tingling sensation spreading through her body from her head to her toes.

He lingered there for a moment, his breath on her face, and then all of a sudden, he wrenched his hand out of hers and opened the car door as fast as he could. "I've gotta go, I'll call tomorrow about the trip..." He didn't look at her as he muttered some other things about going home and making curfew—which Sakura knew for a fact that he didn't have—and got in the car and drove away very quickly.

She stood there on the curb, her hand on the cheek that he had kissed. She was suddenly very warm and very breathless.

_Was that real? _

* * *

Syaoran drove away, but he pulled over a few blocks away from her house and sighed to himself, rubbing his temples. He clearly did not understand the magnitude of what he had done.

He didn't even know what had taken over him, because it was certainly not the same thing that had made him drive over to Sakura's and somehow manage to invite her whole family on his holiday trip. No, it was a force much fiercer than that. But it hadn't really been just the kiss on the cheek that completely voided every "no-attachment" rule there was—that was the cherry on top of everything else that had happened. First of all, he'd spilled his feelings to a girl he'd only known for two weeks, confessing to her that he actually cared about what she thought; and he'd touched her face, held her hand, as though it was nothing—even that afternoon, he'd stroked her hair and held her very briefly during that whole incident at lunch—and now...he'd invited her to spend a good three or four days with him, alone for a large part of the time...

And then he realized that he just did not care about the rules of the bet anymore. He'd said he would enjoy himself while this lasted, and he was going to. There was no point in holding back now. He was winning—Yamazaki was going to college for sure—and he was feeling this strange sensation of euphoria that made him careless and reckless and _free_, all things that were absolutely not associated with Sakura but somehow induced by her. And as for keeping the bet a secret...well, he'd figure that out as soon as he could disentangle his own feelings.

Just that afternoon, Tomoyo had asked him if he liked her, and he'd replied so ambiguously because he himself didn't quite understand how he'd felt.

But he realized now that he hadn't quite fallen for her—fallen wasn't the right word. No, he'd stumbled...and now, he was finding it _very_ difficult to regain his balance.

* * *

That's it! This chapter was pretty messy, I thought; I went back and rewrote a lot of scenes more than once, but I think this is about as good as it's going to get, haha. It's a transitional chapter, so the next chapter or the chapter after that will probably have more pivotal moments. I really hope you guys understood this and liked it, haha. Please review, and thanks so much for reading!

See you soon—

Medieval Legend15


	9. Proof

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everyone! Okay, okay...I'm _really really REALLY_ sorry for not updating within...three months ): In my defense, there has been a lot going on in my life, and while writing is a great outlet for all of that, I just haven't been able to find the time for it. But I have been writing on and off, so I am definitely trying here. And this was the major transitional chapter I needed—which was really difficult to write, by the way—and now that I've gotten this out of the way, the next few chapters should be much easier to write. With that said, **I am also thinking about changing my pen name.** I've had this old one since I was...twelve? It doesn't really appeal to me anymore, haha. So if you see a completely different author updating this story later on, it's not a completely different author...it's just me with a new name:D Anyhow, I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 9: **Proof

Syaoran covered his head with his pillow as the phone rang. The sun wasn't even up yet; who was calling? He sighed in relief as the ringing stopped, rolling over and getting ready to fall back asleep, when the phone started ringing again. _Damn it!_ He picked up the phone, too lazy to see who it was, and mumbled into it groggily. "Hello?"

"What on earth did you do?f" It was Tomoyo, and he could practically hear the gleeful smile in her voice.

Syaoran opened one eye and blearily looked at his digital alarm clock, which glowed out 2:00 AM. "Tomoyo, why are you not sleeping?"

"Sakura and I stayed up late to watch a movie. She just fell asleep. I'm using her phone to call you because I don't have your number," she whispered.

"You're crazy."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Anyway, tell me what happened tonight! How did you manage to get her to go on a trip with you?"

"Why don't you just ask her? Let me sleep," Syaoran muttered, and he faintly recognized that he was on the verge of whining.

"She said she'd tell me tomorrow, and I can't wait. But I don't want to wake her up."

Syaoran sighed. "But it's okay to wake _me_ up. Okay, that sounds about right." Somehow, there wasn't as much venom in his voice as he wanted there to be. He shuddered at the thought of actually getting used to Tomoyo's insanity. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything!"

"Christ, are you on a sugar rush or something?" Syaoran rubbed one of his eyes and yawned. "Can't I tell you tomorrow?"

"Fine, leave out all the details. Just tell me how it came to the point where you decided that you'd take the entire family on a trip with you."

"I don't know. I called her like you told me to, but one thing led to another, and I ended up going to her house. And I felt bad about what happened at school, so I convinced her to let me make it up by taking her on the trip. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Is that really all there was to it?" Tomoyo sounded slightly crestfallen.

_She acts like we're characters from a romance movie or something,_ Syaoran thought, rolling his eyes. "Yes, that's all there was to it."

"I don't know, Sakura was awfully quiet when she came in. What did you do to her?" Tomoyo's voice was suddenly full of accusation.

"What—I didn't do anything! You have a twisted mind, you know that—" He sat up in indignation. What was she talking about? And then it hit him. He'd almost forgotten; why did she have to bring it up? "Okay, well, there is one thing."

"And...?"

"I kissed her," he said in a slightly quieter voice, as though he were ashamed of it. Come to think of it, he _was_ ashamed of it—he had no right to do what he did, not when he was in a relationship with her for strictly..._not_ romantic reasons.

"You did _what_?" Tomoyo whispered, but it sounded like she was ready to shout.

"Only on the cheek, don't get overexcited," Syaoran muttered, lying back down. "But I think I kind of shocked her."

"No kidding."

"_Now_ can I go to sleep?" he begged. He heard Tomoyo sigh, and after a momentary pause, he heard a disgruntled "fine." Smirking, he bade her goodnight and turned the phone off to avoid anyone else calling at some crazy hour of the night. But as he rolled over in bed, he found that he couldn't sleep anymore.

Groaning, he got out of bed and made his way toward his bathroom and dug through the medicine cabinet. He fished out a couple of cold pills and swallowed them, washing them down with water from the faucet. He didn't typically rely on drugs to make him sleep, but...

He'd decided to himself that he wouldn't let Sakura be the cause of any more sleepless nights, and that was that.

* * *

Sakura wished she didn't care.

It was Tuesday now, her first day of break, and she'd spent the entire day trying not to think about when Syaoran would call. So she'd kept herself busy—she'd made breakfast for her family, cleaned the entire house, helped Tomoyo and Sonomi pack some of their things away so they could move out the next day, gone for a walk with her brother, come home and made dinner. And now, she was washing the dishes while everyone else was still in the dining room laughing and talking, and she was wondering to herself how, amidst all of this activity, she could _still_ not think of anything except about how Syaoran hadn't called all day.

She'd explained all of the previous night's events to Tomoyo, but even she had called Sakura impatient when she'd complained for the fifth time that day about not getting a call.

And why was she so fixed on it, anyway? Just because he'd kissed her didn't mean he was necessarily attracted to her, right? And it wasn't even a real kiss. Sure, it had been sweet and soft and— _Stop right there. _

She scrubbed furiously at the plate in her hands, trying to channel her frustration into her job. Her mind was in such turmoil; whatever time she hadn't spent thinking about Syaoran, she'd spent beating herself up for not calling off the bet. Up until Syaoran had come over, Sakura had planned on going to Mai's house and demanding—okay, maybe not _demanding_, but more like asking politely—to cancel the bet. It was getting to be too much. She didn't want Syaoran to suffer because of her own stupid decision.

_But maybe he deserves it, considering how he hasn't even called me yet,_ Sakura thought vehemently to herself. She glanced at the clock on the wall, which read 7:20 PM, and she sighed.

And to make things worse, the night before had completely scrambled her opinions on the matter. She knew that she'd been teetering on the edge of liking him. She knew she'd been close. And now, she felt as if she had to put all of her energy just towards maintaining a decent sense of loathing towards him, just so she wouldn't fall for him entirely.

Of course, he made it easy to loathe him sometimes; but nowadays, those moments of loathing were few and far between.

Done with the last dish, Sakura shut off the water, dried her hands, and sat down at the kitchen table. She could hear her family's laughter trailing in from the dining room, and she found herself missing the days before she'd ever even spoken to Syaoran.

Sick of stressing over him, she dragged herself up the stairs and into her bedroom, hoping that sleeping might take her mind off of him.

* * *

Syaoran leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk as he dialed Sakura's phone number slowly, somewhat dreading the thought of hearing her voice. The events from the night before had been burned into his mind; they'd plagued his dreams while he slept and his every thought while he was awake. And now, his mother had requested that he bring Sakura and her father over to discuss the vacation that very night. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he held the ringing phone to his ear.

After the fourth ring or so, he heard a "hello" on the other line, although there was something slightly off about it.

"Hey," he said stiffly. "Er...what's up?"

"Wh-what?" Sakura sounded confused and tired, much like Syaoran had felt when Tomoyo had called him the night before.

"Were you sleeping?"

"Um...yeah," she said, sounding as though it took much thinking to answer the question correctly. "I'm sorry." It came out sounding more like a question than a statement.

In spite of his irritation at what had happened last night, he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. He almost wanted to laugh—she sounded so dazed and disoriented and unlike her usual self. At least it was a good icebreaker. It couldn't be awkward to talk to her if she wasn't even fully awake. "No, I'm sorry for waking you up. Why are you asleep, though? It's not even nine yet."

"I don't know, I was just...kind of tired..." She was clearly falling asleep again, and Syaoran quickly remembered what he was calling for.

"Hey, don't go back to sleep. My mother wants to know if you and your father can come over really quickly to discuss details about the trip."

"Tonight?" Syaoran heard the awareness in her voice rise ever so slightly, and he knew he'd surprised her into full consciousness.

"Yeah."

"Um...what time is it?"

"It's 8:30 now. We can send Wei over to drive you here."

"Do we have to?" Syaoran could practically hear her rolling over on her bed and frowning, and he fought the urge to smile again.

"Well, it would be nice. My mother has to stay at work a little longer for the rest of the week, so she doesn't think another day will work."

He heard her sigh into the phone. "Okay, okay. Let me go talk to my father. Hang on a sec."

Syaoran got out of his chair and paced around his room as he waited. He could hear muffled noises in the background from Sakura's phone—laughter and conversation and music—very cozy noises, almost like those of a restaurant. It sounded so different from his own house, he thought, where conversation sounded hushed and insignificant underneath the high, regal ceilings.

Very abruptly, he heard a new, louder voice barge in on the conversation, and although Syaoran could not hear what was being said, he immediately knew that the voice was Touya's—even through garbled, unintelligible noises, the tone sounded angry and stiff, just as it had the night before. Syaoran listened more carefully and smirked as he heard Sakura's voice rise in response; he'd only heard her raise her voice once or twice since he'd known her.

He heard staticky noises for a few moments, and then a very agitated Sakura muttered, "I'm back."

"Everything all right?" Syaoran asked, smirking.

"Fine," she said, her voice clipped. "My brother's coming, too, and he refuses to take no for an answer. Send your driver."

_Click._

Syaoran raised an eyebrow and stared at the phone in astonishment. _Did she really just hang up on me? _

Awestruck and not quite sure what to make of the uncharacteristic gesture, he started laughing to himself and made his way to his mother's room to say that Sakura and her father—and her older brother—were coming, and that Wei needed to be sent on his way as soon as possible.

* * *

"Behave yourself," Sakura hissed to her brother as she made her way up the walk to Syaoran's front door.

She and Touya had fought for a few minutes while Syaoran had sat waiting on the phone; Touya had overheard Sakura asking her father if they could go to the Li residence, and immediately, he'd thrown a fit. He didn't "trust the brat," he'd said; he'd insisted on going, and in the end, he'd won the argument with a triumphant smile on his face.

Sakura had subsequently spent the entire car ride over to Syaoran's house fuming, putting herself over in a corner of the backseat, while Touya had sat on the other side, looking completely and utterly satisfied. Their father, accustomed to these kinds of fights, had sat in the front seat with a benign smile on his face, choosing to ignore them.

Wei opened the door for them and ushered them in, leading them into a waiting room and then leaving them to inform Yelan that they were here. Although it was her third time here, Sakura was still amazed at the grandeur of the house; out of the corner of her eye, she could see her father and even Touya looking around in astonishment as well.

Suddenly, she heard shouting followed by loud laughter, and she stepped outside of the waiting room to see what was going on, Touya and her father right behind her.

A beautiful woman raced down the winding staircase and around the entrance room, her long hair flying behind her. She was waving a piece of paper high in the air and laughing wildly, shouting something that was unintelligible due to her laughter.

Sakura turned around briefly to her father and brother, who looked even more confused than she was.

"Kaijuu, are you sure it's safe that we go on a vacation with this family? They seem kind of...crazy," Touya stated, scratching his head and watching the woman run through the entrance room towards one of the large corridors.

Sakura laughed weakly. "It's...it's not usually like this..."

She turned back around, and her jaw nearly dropped. She watched in shock as Syaoran suddenly came in at full speed behind the woman, sliding down the banister and jumping into a run at the end to catch up with her. He shouted back at her, his arms outstretched in an attempt to catch her. Sakura watched for a few more moments in shock as he nearly slipped on the marble floor, only to regain his balance and continue chasing the woman around the room. And Sakura couldn't understand what he was saying, but judging by the tone of his voice, she was almost positive that he was..._whining_.

"Syaoran?" Sakura called, finally finding her voice.

Syaoran and the woman screeched to a halt and turned towards the waiting room, breathing heavily. It was comical, to say the least; both of them were frozen in action, looking like oddly posed mannequins—the woman still held the paper as high as she could, and Syaoran still had his arms reached out towards the woman. They both had the same expression of surprise on their faces, their eyes wide and slightly shameful.

"Sakura," Syaoran managed after a few seconds, and he hastily snatched the paper out of the woman's still hands before straightening up. His eyes went even wider when he saw Sakura's father and brother standing behind her, smiling a bit confusedly. "Kinomoto-san," he mumbled, falling into a bow. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here yet..." He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

Fujitaka laughed. "That's all right. I think your driver—Wei, is it?—went to go look for you and your mother to tell you we're here. I guess you've saved him the trouble."

Syaoran smiled, although the flush on his cheeks had not gone away and his breathing was still heavy. "Uh...this is my sister, Feimei," he said, gesturing to the woman beside him, who had pulled herself into a more dignified pose. He turned towards his sister. "This is Sakura Kinomoto, her brother, and her father. They're the family who's going on vacation with us."

Feimei pushed a strand of her long hair behind her ear and bowed, smiling. "It's nice to meet you," she said. Like her mother and her brother, she spoke in flawless Japanese. "Please excuse our behavior. I just haven't teased my baby brother in so long," she said, turning to Syaoran and pinching his cheek.

"_Quit it_," Syaoran growled, slapping her hand away.

Sakura bit back a smile and bowed. "Nice to meet you."

Syaoran and Feimei walked into the waiting room, sitting together on one of the plush leather sofas and urging the Kinomotos to do the same. Sakura sat in between her father and her brother, unable to relax, even though the sofa was ridiculously comfortable.

She studied the two siblings as she sat across from them, noting the striking similarities— same bright amber eyes, same chestnut hair color, same prominent bone structure. Even their smiles were similar. They looked like siblings who belonged in some famous royal portrait, stunningly attractive and oozing confidence. _Of course,_ Sakura thought to herself, _if the mother and the son are gorgeous, why wouldn't the daughter be as well?_

She looked over from Feimei to Syaoran, who was staring at her with an odd expression on his face. Quickly, he averted his eyes to the side, a scowl forming on his face. Sakura rolled her eyes and looked away as well; she didn't feel like dealing with his mind games. He was the one who'd woken her up to drag her to his house, after all.

In contrast to her reserved brother, Feimei seemed interested in everything; she fired questions at Fujitaka, asking about the family and their history and how long they'd lived in Tomoeda. And then her eyes landed on Touya, and her lips curved up into a grin that was frighteningly similar to Syaoran's trademark smirk. For some reason, it reminded Sakura of a cat about to pounce on a mouse.

"So, what's your name?" Feimei said, staring at Touya, the devious grin still plastered on her face.

"Er...Touya Kinomoto." Touya suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"Touya," she said to herself. She tapped her red nails against the arm of the sofa, ignoring the warning looks Syaoran was shooting at her. "That's a nice name. How old are you?"

Sakura wondered if she was imagining it, but it seemed to her that Feimei was looking at Touya as though he were a piece of meat.

Touya stared at Feimei a bit indignantly for awhile, but she merely smiled in response, and he finally gave in. "Eighteen."

Feimei's grin grew even wider, and her eyes lit up. "Fantastic! You know, I'm only two years older than you."

Sakura nearly burst out laughing. Feimei thought her brother was cute! She glanced over at Touya, who glared back at his sister with a look that clearly said, _What the hell?_

Sakura merely shrugged and whispered in a low voice so that only her brother would hear, "You're the one who wanted to come here."

Fujitaka, as usual, looked blissfully unaware of what was going on, and if he did realize what was going on, he did not show it.

Sakura shot another glance at Syaoran, who was examining the paper he'd taken away from Feimei. _I wonder what it is,_ she thought, sitting up a bit straighter to see better. Syaoran quickly noticed this and folded the paper in half. Sakura frowned, her curiosity piqued even more now, but just then Yelan Li strode in.

Immediately, Syaoran stood up, and everyone else in the room followed suit. Yelan nodded and indicated for everyone to sit down. She looked even more beautiful and elegant than before, Sakura thought, but just like her son, her face was so cold when she didn't smile. Yelan made her way towards Fujitaka and bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Yelan Li, Syaoran's mother. I see you've already met my son and my daughter?"

Fujitaka shook Yelan's hand; the same pleasant smile he'd worn all night was still there. "Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, too. I'm Fujitaka Kinomoto. Thank you for inviting us along. Your children are very...nice," he said, chuckling.

Syaoran sunk lower into his seat, covering his face partially with his paper.

Yelan turned towards Sakura and smiled. "Sakura, it's good to see you again. I'm glad you're going on this trip with us."

Sakura bowed her head slightly and mumbled her thanks. She shot a glare at Syaoran, who merely smirked at her in triumph.

She looked around the room at the odd mix of people: the Lis, all casually dignified and beautiful—including Syaoran, who still managed to look like some modern Adonis even as he sulked on the couch; her father, pleasant and unaware of any tension in the room; her brother, looking slightly harassed at Feimei's forwardness; and finally, herself, clumsy and completely out of place.

She sighed as she resisted the urge to run out of the room. This evening was suddenly feeling a lot longer than she'd expected it to be.

* * *

"You're really different, you know. Around your family." Sakura walked alongside Syaoran with her hands clasped behind her back, staring up at the tall, wide ceiling.

To her relief, they'd gotten out of there—Feimei had convinced Syaoran to show Sakura around the house, while the adults stayed back and discussed the vacation plans. Touya had watched them go with a look of mingled fury and fear—of Feimei, Sakura assumed—on his face. They'd only just gotten beyond the ballroom now, and Syaoran was leading her through another dark corridor, so Sakura talked to keep her fears at bay.

"_I'm_ different?" Syaoran snorted.

"Yeah, you're different! I've never seen you act so childlike," Sakura said, smiling. "I almost thought it wasn't you."

"Childlike," Syaoran repeated. "It's not childlike! She stole something of mine, and I just wanted it back, that's all," he said, holding his head up slightly higher in a gesture of defense.

"You sound so offended," Sakura laughed. "It's not bad or anything. I told you before that it's okay to not be so serious all the time, remember? It was actually kind of cute."

"Whatever," Syaoran muttered, although he seemed to lower his head again after that.

"So is she your only sibling?" Sakura asked. She couldn't imagine anyone more different—in terms of personality, anyway—to be Syaoran's sister.

"No, I have three other older sisters, too—Fuutie, Fanren, and Shiefa. They'll actually be going to the resort straight from their own homes, so you'll meet them there."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Are they as..." She stopped, wondering if her words would offend Syaoran.

"As crazy as Feimei?" He finished for her, completely unaffected. "Yes," he answered, albeit rather grimly. "But I actually think Feimei might be less crazy than the others."

Sakura giggled, unable to imagine three more women just like the one she had met. This would be some vacation.

They reached the end of the corridor and stepped into a magnificently decorated room that was about half the size of the ballroom; in the center was a long, rectangular table that had already been set, the china and silverware gleaming underneath a great crystal chandelier. The ceiling, like that of the ballroom, was painted like a mural.

"This is the dining room," Syaoran said. "This is the room we were supposed to eat in before."

Sakura looked at it with wide eyes. "Wow," she breathed. "Do you eat here every night?"

Syaoran shook his head. "We used to when we were younger, but my mother is so busy nowadays that we usually just don't eat dinner together." He ran his hand along the shiny mahogany table.

"I'm sorry," Sakura mumbled, biting her lip. She couldn't imagine not being able to spend time with her family. They were the only ones whom she felt truly comfortable with, after all.

"Don't look at me like that," he replied, avoiding her gaze. "There's nothing to be sorry about. It sucks sometimes, but whatever."

Sakura stared at him for a few moments, and then she lowered her head. "Right."

He led her through more large rooms and corridors, making small talk along the way. It bothered Sakura that they couldn't talk about last night, but she was too afraid to say anything, lest she ruin the relative calm of the evening. They were getting along. She didn't want to get into an argument.

Finally, the two came full-circle and back into the entrance room, and then Syaoran peeked into the room where the adults were still talking. He shrugged. "I guess we can go upstairs."

Sakura wordlessly followed Syaoran up the winding staircase, her curiosity rising slightly, as she'd never been to the second floor before.

Now there was no small talk; he simply led her around the rooms, showing elaborate guestrooms and bathrooms and gamerooms, seeming bored and somewhat deflated. Sakura noticed that he'd folded and refolded the paper from earlier into smaller squares, and now he was tossing the square of paper between his hands absentmindedly.

"And this is just another guestroom—I don't know why we have so many, really, but I guess they're handy when all of our relatives are over—what are you looking at?" Syaoran looked at Sakura with a frown on his face. He'd noticed that her gaze was focused not on his face, but at the paper in his hands. He stuffed it hastily into his pocket.

"Well...what is it?" Sakura couldn't help but ask. "You've been messing with it all night."

For a brief moment, she could see the look of deliberation on his face. He was on the verge of showing her, she thought—but then, in the next instant, his face had become void of emotion again, and he shrugged. "It's nothing. Let's go up to the third floor. The rest of this floor is the same as everything else you've seen."

Sakura tried to ignore the feeling that he was purposely being like this—bland and emotionless. She looked at her watch to avoid looking at Syaoran, and she sighed. "Maybe we should be getting back? How are they going to find us when it's time to go?"

"There's an intercom system that runs through the house. My mother will call when they're done. I don't know about you, but I definitely don't feel like going back there."

She nodded, defeated. It wasn't so much that she wanted to go back to the adults; it was more that she didn't know if she could bear being alone with Syaoran for much longer. There was a wall so thick between them right now that they might as well have been in separate rooms. And in her mind, she knew that she only deserved this kind of treatment, that she shouldn't even have been over at his house in the first place because she was supposed to have already called this whole thing off. So she didn't complain, and she trailed after him up to the third floor, feeling a bit like a child who was trying to atone for bad behavior by obeying her parents.

Syaoran pointed out more rooms—a library, an office, a sitting room, and a bar—and led Sakura down to the end of one of the hallways and stopped, placing his hand on the doorknob of the last room in the hall. "This is my room." And with that, he turned the knob, pushed open the door, and hit the light switch.

Sakura peered in slowly, not knowing quite what to expect...and she felt both surprised and disappointed at what she saw.

Compared to the rest of the house, Syaoran's room was relatively simple. The room was large, but unlike the other intricately decorated guestrooms, his room had a lot of floor space. His walls were a dark green—that was to be expected, as she'd noticed that most of his wardrobe was some shade of green—and the floor was black lacquered hardwood. The bed was simple with no frame, just two mattresses stacked on top of the other, although the sheets were a black silky material that looked like they'd be costly to buy and maintain.

At one end of the room, there was a stereo system with row after row of CDs stacked inside a glass cabinet next to it, and across the room from Syaoran's bed, there was a TV on the wall. There was a desk in the corner of the room that was almost frighteningly neat and orderly, with papers and books stacked off to the side of it and a black desk lamp sitting in the corner. A black file cabinet sat next to the desk. A large bookcase stood in the opposite corner, looking overstuffed with books of all different shapes and colors, and there were a few books lying haphazardly on the floor around the bookcase—the only messy part of Syaoran's room. There was a coffee table in the center of the room with a few low stools around it, but they looked as if they weren't used very often. Books were strewn across the coffee table, as well, with a few opened and marked with bookmarks.

The most elaborate part of Syaoran's room was his windows; they ran from the ceiling to the floor and almost entirely across the southern wall, framed in ornately wrought iron. The view was gorgeous, showing what Sakura assumed to be the back yard, and she recognized the hill they'd sat upon a few nights before on their date. The curtains around the window were, of course, black.

Sakura looked a little sheepishly at Syaoran. "So...got enough black in this bedroom?"

Syaoran laughed. "It was a sort of phase I was going through. Besides, black goes well with green."

"Okay, fair enough." Sakura walked over to the bookcase and looked at the volumes of books, running her hand along their spines as she read the titles. "Wow," she said after a moment. "These are some pretty complicated reads."

Syaoran came over and stood beside her. "Yeah, I just got into classics pretty recently. Some of them are kind of tedious, but a lot of them are really interesting."

Sakura smiled. "I never really took you for an avid reader."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot you don't know about me," Syaoran said, not unkindly. He sighed, and he pulled the square of paper out of his pocket and tossed it to Sakura. "I draw, too."

Sakura looked at him for a moment, slightly suspicious. After an entire evening of hiding the paper from her, why would he give it to her now?

Syaoran only gave her an exasperated side glance. "Jeez, would you just open it?"

She laughed, but her suspicion didn't waver. Nonetheless, she did feel excited to finally see what it was, and when she opened up the paper, she felt a jolt of surprise run through her body—it was the last thing she'd been expecting.

It was a picture of _her_—her smiling, really smiling, her every emotion practically radiating out of the picture. It looked exactly like her, Sakura thought, but maybe a bit prettier than she was in real life. And besides the incredible surprise she felt that Syaoran would have drawn a picture of her, she was amazed at how good of an artist he was. She never would have guessed.

He had placed his signature at the bottom of the picture and marked the date he'd drawn it, December 7. In the other corner, he'd written in his fluid, slightly messy handwriting, "To Sakura. Merry early Christmas."

Sakura felt a lot of things as she examined the picture, but her guilt and her gratitude were both overpowering.

"Look," she heard him say from beside her. "I know it's not really anything special, but—"

And just like that, the guilt lost. In that instant, she felt something much stronger than she'd ever felt, something that was so complicated that it completely overwhelmed an emotion as simple as guilt. But she couldn't put her finger on what it was... "No," she said unevenly, interrupting his rant about how the lighting was probably off and the hair color wasn't exactly right.

"What?" He said, looking confused. "Why do you—you look upset! I mean, it's not like it's a _bad_ picture, no matter what I say about it, I was just trying to be modest! You women are so hard to please—"

"No, you idiot," Sakura said a bit louder, although her voice was still shaky. "I'm just...happy." Her voice had dipped lower again, so low now that she wasn't even sure if Syaoran could hear her. "This is probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Oh," Syaoran said, not quite sure how to react. He didn't know it would make her so emotional. "Well...don't make such a big deal out of it. I drew it on accident."

Still, she was unfazed. She stared at the picture intently, going over every detail and aspect of it. "It doesn't matter. It's beautiful."

Syaoran scratched his head, still a bit confused over how to feel. In all truth, he hated to admit it to himself, but had he known it would make her that happy, he'd have drawn her a few more pictures. "Yeah, well...I expect an excellent Christmas present now, you know."

Sakura looked up and smiled, mirroring her picture. "You can bet on it."

And for once, Syaoran felt his own lips twitch in a smile back.

They were quiet for a moment, until Syaoran finally felt compelled to speak. "You know, I..." He stopped, his voice trailing off into silence again as he searched, frustrated, for the right words.

Suddenly, a voice came in loudly through the intercom, scaring them both. "Syaoran, our guests are leaving."

Syaoran cleared his throat. "Coming," he called back, and he merely nodded at Sakura, indicating for her to follow him.

Once again, Sakura trailed Syaoran through the long, wide hallways of his house, not even scared of the dark anymore, for she was far too curious over what had just happened to notice it.

They returned to their parents in silence.

* * *

Syaoran picked at his dinner absentmindedly as his sister chattered away, oblivious to the fact that he was not listening to her. They were sitting at the far end of the dining table, eating a late dinner; their mother had already eaten and retired to her bedroom to do some work before going to sleep.

Why did he always seem to lose his voice whenever he needed to talk?

Just before they'd been called back, so many important things were on the tip of his tongue. It was almost unbelievable_—_something that had started merely as a sort of game had turned into something much bigger. He knew his feelings about Sakura were evolving rapidly, too quickly for him to even dream of suppressing them.

But he felt unusually unconfident; he'd never been in a situation like this before. And shouldn't it have been the other way around? He felt as though he'd started off stronger than her, so why was he the one giving in and starting to feel like...

He shook his head. _Don't even think about it._

But then he sighed and stared at his plate with a frown on his face. He was in denial, he knew it.

The feeling he felt was a crippling, debilitating weakness, one that had affected his mind and his heart. He couldn't bring himself to be cruel to her anymore. And he couldn't focus on school or martial arts or his family without somehow tying it back to her. He'd only known her for a couple of weeks, no matter how much time he'd actually spent with her in those weeks; wasn't it impossible to fall for someone in such a short span of time?

"Syaoran?"

Syaoran looked up. His sister was staring at him with a concerned look on her face. It was the first time that he'd seen her so serious since she'd come home.

"Is everything all right?" She set her fork down. "You've been so quiet all evening."

He grinned in spite of himself. So she _had_ noticed he wasn't listening, after all. "Yeah, everything's fine."

Feimei looked unconvinced, but she let it go, much to Syaoran's relief. Her expression was all smiles again as she resumed eating. "So, your girlfriend is really cute."

Syaoran scoffed. "She's not my girlfriend."

Feimei raised an eyebrow. "Really? It sure seemed like she was."

Syaoran only looked at his sister skeptically.

"I don't know," Feimei went on, "it's just the way you act around her. It's different from anything I've ever seen before."

He refused to respond to her, because he knew that if he heard what she had to say, then it would burrow into the back of his mind, and at some point later in the evening, it would be all he could think about.

But she could play the waiting game much better than he could, and he quickly found himself giving in and asking a very smug Feimei how he acted differently around Sakura.

"You're just a lot...gentler? I guess that would be one way to describe it."

"Gentler?" Syaoran frowned. "Huh. That's funny. Eriol and Yamazaki always tell me that I need to be nicer to her."

"Oh, you do. In my opinion, she's too nice for you," Feimei explained, grinning playfully. "But all the same, you're generally pretty cold to everyone except those who are really close to you, so the way you acted tonight really surprised me."

"Well, I mean...I _should_ be nice to her, shouldn't I? We wouldn't be able to tolerate each other for an entire vacation together if we weren't nice to each other."

"Yeah, but it goes beyond that, I think. It seems like you're a lot more patient with Sakura than you would be with any other girl."

Syaoran digested this for a moment, knowing that what Feimei just said had confirmed what he'd been thinking about all night. Ignoring this, he rolled his eyes and resumed eating his dinner. "You're delusional."

* * *

Sakura stared at her clock and sighed. The sun would rise in a couple of hours, and for all of the tiredness she'd felt earlier, she couldn't fall asleep anymore.

She knew she couldn't run from it anymore. After she'd come home, she'd sat on her bed and stared at the picture Syaoran gave her for hours, and she'd cried, because she'd just experienced a huge realization. What she'd felt when Syaoran had given her the picture, the feeling she couldn't name—she knew exactly what it was now; and it changed everything.

At first, when she'd thought about it, she hadn't been sure. But now, she realized that there was no denying it, because now, as opposed to how she'd felt in the beginning of it all, she actually felt as though she could breathe easier when she was around Syaoran. He was letting his guard down more and more often around her now, and when he did, his demeanor was so gentle that Sakura could completely be herself around him—a first for anyone outside her family.

And of course, she loathed herself for it. The picture just showed how good of a person he was, even from the start, and she knew that she was the true villain here, not him. She couldn't even blame Mai anymore. She had gone into this on her own, all for something as stupid as wanting to impress a bunch of girls who, in the long run, would not even matter.

And now, she was paying a very heavy price, because she was past mere liking; earlier that evening, she had thought that she hadn't completely crossed the line yet. She'd thought that she could stop herself from falling for Syaoran completely. But now, she knew that was impossible; Sakura Kinomoto was certain that she was falling in love far too quickly and deeply for her own good.

* * *

The next few days went by in a blur. Sakura and her family were to meet with Syaoran's family on Saturday to leave Tomoeda, and most of her days until then were devoted to helping Tomoyo move into her new house. She hadn't spoken to Syaoran since the night she went to his house, although she knew that her father had been in contact with Yelan to finalize all the plans.

This was how it would go: it would be a week-long stay, which meant they would spend Christmas there. Eriol and Yamazaki were also going along, and they would be riding with Syaoran, while Sakura, Tomoyo, and Touya rode with Fujitaka; Yelan and Feimei would be taking Wei, as well. Technically, the place they were staying at was a cabin, but Fujitaka had shown Sakura a picture, and it looked more like a big house made of wood; Touya had snorted and remarked that the Lis had a very peculiar idea of simplicity.

They were to leave at 6 in the morning on Saturday.

Sakura had confessed to Tomoyo her newfound feelings for Syaoran, much to Tomoyo's delight. Her cousin promised to "set them up" as often as possible on the trip, which made Sakura dread the vacation even more—and that only made the vacation date approach faster.

And finally, on the eve before they were to leave, Sakura packed her things a bit grimly and suffered another sleepless night, her heart pounding for hours at the thought of spending a week—an entire _week_—in the same house as Syaoran.

* * *

"Sakura."

Sakura groaned and turned her head the other way. What was that annoying voice in the background?

"Sakura, get up. We're here."

She felt someone patting her face gently, and she frowned and opened one eye. "What?"

Syaoran spoke with an annoyed look on his face. "We're here, and everyone else is already in the cabin. I've been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes. You sleep like a rock, you know that?"

Sakura yawned and looked around. "Snow," she mumbled.

"Yeah, we're in the mountains, in case you forgot. And it's freezing, so let's get to the cabin, please. We moved your bags and everything already."

She nodded. "Right." She stepped out of the car and into the cold air, shivering. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," she admitted.

"Is that why you were knocked out for the entire car ride?"

"How'd you know?" Sakura asked, trudging her way up to the cabin, her shoes crunching in the snow.

"Your brother was complaining about it," Syaoran grinned. "He said your head kept falling onto his shoulder, no matter how many times he pushed you away."

Sakura laughed. "That always happens on family trips. He should be used to it by now."

She was surprised at how naturally they were conversing, even after four days of not talking. She'd expected it to be a lot harder, but it was almost as if they'd seen each other every day since Tuesday night.

They stepped into the warm cabin and parted ways, heading up to their rooms. The cabin was big enough that no one needed to share rooms, but Sakura felt a little lonely after having spent an entire week with Tomoyo as a roommate. She did, however, take comfort in knowing that both Tomoyo and Syaoran were down the hall from her.

As she began to unpack her things, she heard a knock on the door. "Come in," she called, and she turned around, only to be surprised by who it was.

Yamazaki grinned cheerfully at her. "I don't think we ever really got off on the right foot," he said. "I'm sorry if I scared you in detention; I just like to mess around with people." He held out his hand. "I'm Takashi Yamazaki. I figured we should get to know each other a little better if we're staying in the same place for a week."

Sakura smiled back and shook his hand. "I'm Sakura Kinomoto. It's nice to meet you again."

Yamazaki looked around the room as Sakura unpacked some more. "Your room has a really great view," he said, heading over to the windows. "I bet Syaoran's jealous."

"Why?"

"He likes rooms with good views. They inspire him to draw. At least, that's what he says."

Sakura nodded. "I just found out only recently that he draws. Has he been doing it long?"

"All his life," Yamazaki chirped.

"So that's why he's so good," Sakura said, pulling out the picture Syaoran had drawn for her, which she'd framed and decided to pack last-minute.

"So he finally decided to give that to you, huh?" Yamazaki came over and looked at the picture.

"You make it sound like he's had it for a long time."

"Well, in terms of how long you've known each other, it kind of is a long time," he replied. "He doesn't even know that I know about it, though. He never showed me or anything, I just kind of found it...don't tell him I said that," he said, covering his mouth.

Sakura couldn't help but giggle, wondering how Syaoran could be such close friends with someone who was so completely different from him. "You've got my word. I'm glad he gave it to me, though. It's such a pretty drawing."

"I see you framed it," Yamazaki said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, it's not anything like that," Sakura said quickly, putting the drawing away. "It's just too good not to frame, you know?"

Yamazaki laughed. "Hey, I didn't even ask. But since you jumped to that conclusion...are you _sure_ that 'it's not anything like that?'"

"Of course. Syaoran and I are just friends."

"I saw what happened on Monday at lunch. I'm not convinced with the whole 'just friends' thing. I saw the way you two looked at each other."

Sakura bit her lip. "What do you mean? I wasn't looking at him in any particular way..."

"Until that kid threw a piece of bread at you to get your attention, you definitely were."

Sakura sighed and sat down on her bed. "Is it that obvious?" She said quietly. "Maybe I've just been stupid not to notice until now..."

Yamazaki sat down next to her. "Not to notice what?" He knew he was asking too many questions for his own good, but he could hear Sakura's feelings in every word she said, and for the sake of the bet and Tomoyo _and_ himself, he just wanted to hear Sakura admit those feelings out loud.

"Can you keep a secret?" Sakura knew she was being foolish, trusting a boy she didn't even know that well, but she felt like he knew everything already, anyway.

He nodded. "Sure."

"I _might_ like Syaoran...just a little."

There, she'd done it. She'd admitted it out loud—even though she'd seriously understated it. But all the same, it felt good. She smiled as she felt the knot in her stomach loosen ever so slightly.

* * *

Syaoran headed to Sakura's room after he'd unpacked his things, just to see if she wanted to get something to eat or go outside. His mother and Feimei had gone off to prepare his other sisters' rooms, as they hadn't arrived yet, and Eriol had gone outside with Tomoyo. He had no idea where Yamazaki was, so he figured he could kill time with Sakura for awhile.

Just as he was about to knock on the door, he heard voices—Sakura's quiet one and Yamazaki's cheerful one—conversing back and forth. Figuring Yamazaki was just introducing himself, he began to walk away, planning on coming back later, but then he paused as he heard something that caught his interest.

"Is it that obvious? Maybe I've been just stupid not to notice until now..." Sakura's voice was muffled, but he could hear the tinge of worry in it. He frowned. What hadn't she noticed? It couldn't be the bet...could it? How would she know? And there was no way Yamazaki would tell her.

"Not to notice what?" He heard Yamazaki say. Syaoran sighed in relief. That meant Yamazaki hadn't told her anything—and even if she did suspect something funny going on, Yamazaki could just blow it off.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure."

Syaoran couldn't bring himself to walk away, although he knew he was eavesdropping. He leaned against the door, feeling a bit ashamed as he waited to hear what Sakura would say.

"I _might_ like Syaoran...just a little."

* * *

That's it! I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, but I figured this was a really good stopping point for the next chapter :D Poor Yamazaki and Tomoyo, though, they have to keep so many secrets, haha. I know this chapter was kind of sloppy, and I know I've been saying that for the past three chapters or so, but I _promise_ the next chapter will be better. Thanks for reading, please review!

-Medieval Legend15 (Not for long!)


	10. Selfish

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hey, guys! –Dodges tomatoes- Okay, I'm sorry about the long wait. I know it's been awhile, but life has gotten pretty hectic—lots of personal issues, and school just decided to get even tougher than usual on me. In any case, the personal issues are solved for the most part, and I'm nearing the end of my exams, so I have plenty more time to write! In case you didn't notice, **I changed my pen name. **I've had my old one since I was 12, and I just thought it was time for a change, haha. Boreum dal (pronounced boh-rum dahl) means "full moon" in Korean. It's a nickname my mom used to call me, 'cause I used to (and still kind of) have a really round face, hah. Thanks for all of the reassurance on the last chapter—I really did think it was sloppy, but maybe I'm just hard on myself? Or maybe it _was_ sloppy and you guys are just being nice (a.k.a. AWESOME). :D Thanks for sticking by through everything—even the year-long hiatuses (which I promise I will never take, ever again). Anyway, enjoy!

**Chapter 10: **Selfish

"I might like Syaoran...just a little." Despitfe the relief she felt, Sakura looked apprehensively at Yamazaki, nervous at how he'd react.

And fortunately for Yamazaki, he had rather quick reflexes: he was undeniably surprised, but he quickly and calmly put on a poker face. "Why?" It was a simple enough response, one that wouldn't provoke any suspicion on Sakura's part. That, and he was genuinely curious.

Sakura pursed her lips, trying not to reveal her own surprise at Yamazaki's calm reaction. She'd been expecting something a little more dramatic; she was almost disappointed. She took her time before answering, choosing her words carefully. "Well..." She bit her lip unsurely, but she moved along anyway. "Somewhere in the past few days, I realized that something changed really drastically—he used to make me feel stupid and awkward, as if I didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as he did. But now, I think I feel more comfortable with him than I do with anyone else." She frowned. "Does that even make any sense?"

Yamazaki nodded, even more taken aback than before by the honesty of her answer. He could see that it wasn't some sort of ruse—this was one hundred percent real, and she meant every word she'd said.

He felt ambivalent about this whole thing; on the one hand, he knew that this complicated matters severely, and he realized with a sinking feeling that he would probably have to spend another four years in school after high school, after all. But on the other hand, he felt slightly triumphant; it had taken so long to set his original plan into motion, and now he thought things were moving along rather nicely. A girl had grown to like Syaoran—genuinely grown to like him—not for his looks or his money or his status, but, amazingly enough, for the person he was.

Now, he just had to wait for the rest of the pieces to fall into place.

Syaoran sat hudfdled against the wall of his room, bouncing a ball against the opposite wall, catching it when it came back, and tossing it back again.

He had never felt so conflicted before in his life.

On the one hand, he was inevitably shocked; even he had come to realize how rude he could be, and he thought for sure that his manners would put Sakura off. Then, there was also the guilt—despite the fact that there were real feelings involved here now, the situation was completely fake. He also felt slightly panicked and clueless as to what to do next; and he felt cowardly for not confronting the issue.

Of course, it was not that simple and neatly organized; he couldn't just categorize all of his feelings like that. Underneath his calm surface, his thoughts were disjointed and incomplete, and there was a slight tinge of desperation to everything he felt. It may not have been so bad, had he not felt the one emotion that was setting all of the other ones off: happiness.

He was happy.

Or, to clarify, he was happy that she liked him.

He couldn't stand it. He felt as though he was supposed to recoil at the thought of Sakura liking him, not embrace it. And as hard as he tried to convince himself of this, the small voice of reason in his subconscious argued with him that he had recognized certain feelings for her in the previous evenings. _In fact,_ it said to him, _didn't you worry just last night that you'd taken a liking to her too soon?_

Frustrated, he caught the ball and threw it back against another wall as hard as he could. It bounced back towards him and off somewhere under his bed. He stood up and paced, annoyed that something like this would even concern him. Underneath the muddle that his mind was in, he did recognize the big question: what would he do next?

But for once in his life, he didn't have a plan, and it scared him that someone whom he'd only known for so long could throw him off track so greatly.

* * *

"This is my first time in the mountains."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope," Tomoyo said, enjoying the crunching noise the snow made under her feet.

She and Eriol were walking along the side of the road that led away from the lodge and towards a coffee shop nearby.

Eriol shook his head. "That's insane. I can't imagine seeing nothing but city all of my life."

Tomoyo shrugged. "I don't know, I never really minded it. I think I'm a born city girl."

"Well then, you and I are entirely opposite...I'm hoping that's a good thing."

Tomoyo smiled, enjoying the pleasant conversation, although she felt like she was having a bit _too _much fun. She'd initially decided not to even go with him, but the way he'd approached her was too cute.

_Tomoyo sat on her bed and stared at the heap of clothes sitting in piles around her floor. She hated unpacking specifically for this reason—once she got the clothes out of the suitcase, she never really knew where to start. _

_A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she walked over to the door to open it. Seeing who it was, she smiled warily. She had to admire his persistence, though. "Hi, Eriol."_

_Eriol raised a hand in greeting. "Sorry. Am I interrupting anything?"_

_Tomoyo shook her head and gestured to her room. "Just trying to sort through everything."_

_He let out a low whistle. "I think you've brought enough clothes to supply everyone here for their entire stay."_

_Tomoyo laughed a bit shamefully. "I know, I always overpack. It's a bad habit of mine."_

"_Well, what do you say you take a break from unpacking and hang out with me?"_

_Tomoyo raised her eyebrows. "You know what I told you before—"_

"_I know, I know," Eriol replied, raising his hands in defense. "But I am a very prideful man, and you definitely hurt my pride when you refused me the last time I asked you out for coffee. And besides, I can say it right this time—wanna go out for coffee with me?"_

_Tomoyo bit her lip, but she could feel her defenses cracking. _And really, _she thought to herself, _what could one cup of coffee hurt? _It wasn't like she was going on a date. She sighed in mock exasperation. "Fine, but when we get back, you have to help me get through all of this," she said, pointing to the piles of clothes on the floor._

_Eriol grinned. "Done."_

"So," Tomoyo said, now toeing her way down a particularly steep hill, her hands held out for balance, "tell me about yourself."

"Ugh. I hate it when people ask me that." Eriol made his way down the hill beside her, treading carefully across the snow.

"Why?"

"It's such a general question. What do I say to that? And then, I feel like if I answer, no one will listen."

"Hey, that's insulting. _I_ would listen."

He laughed. "Okay, then. What do you wanna know?"

Tomoyo shrugged. "Anything, really. Something interesting you've done." She sighed in relief as she reached the bottom of the hill; she'd been sure she was going to slip.

"Something interesting," Eriol repeated. "Hm...well, I suppose it's not that interesting, but I lived in England for awhile before coming here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was born in Tomoeda, but I had to move to England with my family when I was six. I came back when I was fourteen."

"Wow," Tomoyo said, duly impressed. "That must have been cool, to live in a completely different place for awhile."

"It was great." He smiled to himself. "When I first came back, I used to use my 'worldliness' and my English to impress girls."

Tomoyo snorted a laugh. "Not anymore, though, right?"

He shook his head. "For a fourteen-year-old, it was a smooth move; but looking at it now, I feel like a jerk." He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Tomoyo watched him and smiled herself, but then her face fell slightly. "Wasn't it tough, though? Moving, I mean. You had to leave your home, and then when you'd stayed long enough in England to feel settled, you had to move back."

"Yeah, it was kind of hard. But those kinds of things don't faze me too badly, so I was okay for the most part." He paused, hesitating slightly before speaking again. "But I can see that you're still struggling."

Tomoyo stopped walking, although she didn't look at him; she could very well have been talking to the air. "What do you mean?"

"I just saw it—the way your expression changed, talking about missing home. You were talking more about yourself than you were talking about me." He looked down. "Sorry if I'm out of line here."

There was a long moment where neither said or did anything but look at the ground—the tension was so thick that Eriol regretted opening his mouth.

But then, Tomoyo merely shrugged and continued to walk, although her gait was uneasy now. "It's not too bad. I'm fine."

They continued in silence for another few minutes, but very suddenly, she stopped again, turning around with an odd expression on her face—a cross, Eriol thought, perhaps between a smile and a grimace. It caught him off guard, and he found himself feeling a mixture of pity for her and bewilderment as to what she was hiding.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off by placing a finger on his lips. "I'm usually not this open," she said very quietly and slowly, "especially not with people I've only just met."

Eriol furrowed his brow, waiting for her to continue. It was so silent around them—no other people or birds singing or cars passing by—just pure white snow and the trail they were following towards the coffee shop.

"I'm not entirely sure why I've even told you as much as I have. I think..." She looked at the ground, that odd expression still on her face. Her hand had fallen to his shoulder. "I think you're a good person. So I'm going to trust you."

Eriol nodded, afraid to say anything—she looked like she might burst into tears.

"I can't tell you anything more, at least not right now. But maybe, if I get to know you better..." She stopped, meeting his eyes. "Please don't tell anyone about this," she whispered. "Not even Sakura knows...everyone thinks I'm managing fine. And I'd like for them to keep thinking that." She tried to smile again, but somehow, it ended up making her look sadder.

He nodded again, this time more vigorously. "I promise."

She sighed. "Thanks."

They continued to walk, and in a gesture of comfort, Eriol placed an arm around Tomoyo's shoulder and pulled her closer—and for once, she didn't pull away.

* * *

Sakura stared out the window a bit forlornly as she sighed to herself. She'd gotten all of her unpacking done, but by the time she'd finished, everyone had seemed to go off somewhere—Eriol and Tomoyo had disappeared, Yamazaki and Syaoran had grabbed their snowboards and set off as soon as they'd gotten permission, and the adults were all resting from their trip.

She wasn't quite sure what had driven her to tell Yamazaki about Syaoran. She almost regretted it, but something held her back from feeling any true remorse about her decision. In truth, a part of her—a part of her that grew every day—wanted for Syaoran to know. It had been building up for so long; and, she thought, it was so painfully obvious now that she liked him—how could he not notice anymore?

She thought back to when she'd first met him, how he'd coolly dismissed her and regarded her as totally insignificant. It had been only two weeks since then, and he seemed almost like an entirely different person. But it was so hard to tell with him—one moment, he would be completely vicious, and then all of a sudden, he'd become so breathtakingly gentle.

So who was he, really? Which one was the real Syaoran?

"Sakura?" A familiar voice startled her out of her thoughts.

_Speak of the devil. _

Sakura turned around in surprise. "Syaoran, what are you doing here? I thought you were out snowboarding—"

"Well, I _was_," he interrupted, gesturing to his sopping wet clothes. "But Yamazaki wiped out pretty hard, so he's resting up. I don't really like snowboarding by myself." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm not used to having this much time on my hands, though. Wanna go out and ice skate or something?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"All right, let me just go get changed," he muttered, and he paused before heading off to his room. "Just meet me out front on the pond."

Sakura bit her lip as she put on a jacket and grabbed her skates. Everything was fine so far—but she wouldn't let her guard down. His mood was bound to change sooner or later.

* * *

Syaoran walked over to his window, rubbing his hair with a towel to dry it off. He glanced around the room for his skates, but a movement from the window caught his eye—he looked out, and there was Sakura, walking awkwardly onto the frozen pond on her skates before falling into a surprisingly graceful glide.

He turned around, leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor, the towel hanging limply from his hand. While he'd been snowboarding, it had taken all his willpower not to mention what he'd heard to Yamazaki. And for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to tell Yamazaki about his confusion over Sakura. It was perfect material in terms of the bet, really, because he wasn't actually forcing himself to hang out with her—not anymore. He could have gloated all he wanted that Yamazaki was now truly losing the bet. But it didn't feel right, because he felt an odd sensation that he simply didn't care so much about the bet anymore. For the first time in his life, the situation was about his feelings—the bet did not matter.

And so he had reached a tentative decision: he would tell her everything.

Syaoran took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. Knowing that this would be far from easy, he walked very slowly outside.

* * *

Sakura frowned as she skated along the pond, unable to really focus on what was in front of her. It was so odd, this entire situation; when she really thought about it, she still couldn't believe she was here in some fancy mountain resort, staying with Syaoran Li and his rich family and his rich friends. If someone had told her she'd be doing this a month ago, she'd have laughed.

The kiss he'd given her on the cheek replayed in her mind for what must have been the hundredth time; she had thought about it over and over again, trying to make sure that she hadn't egged him on, that it had been all him. And it was, she was sure of it—she'd been holding his hand, sure, but he never did let go; and _he_ was the one who had leaned in so unexpectedly.

She placed a hand to her face, remembering exactly how it had felt—and it wasn't even the physical feeling on her cheek that had been so prominent, but more so the frantic beating of her heart and the near-painful electric current that had jolted through her entire body, from her head to her fingertips to her toes. But it was so dangerous, she knew, to feel this way—especially when she was unsure as to whether or not his actions spoke the truth.

"I didn't realize you were such a graceful skater. Why aren't you like this when you walk?" Syaoran's voice came from behind her.

And, as if on cue, she tripped in the process of looking around to find him, sliding as she fell. "Ow," she muttered, sitting and rubbing her elbow, which had been dragged along the ice when she slid.

She heard chuckling behind her and she turned her head to glare at Syaoran, unable to see what was so funny due to the pain she felt. "Why are you laughing? This _hurts_!"

Syaoran merely rolled his eyes and skated over to her, offering a hand to help her up. "I think I jinxed you," he said, grinning.

She grabbed his hand and stood up, unable to suppress a small smile. "Does that mean you should get off the ice?"

"_I _should get off the ice? I'm the better skater here."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really, especially judging by that fall you just had."

Sakura tossed her head back and laughed. "That was completely unfair! You took me by surprise. Watch." She skated off towards the other edge of the pond, gradually going faster to build up speed, and, to Syaoran's surprise, leapt into the air and landed smoothly on her feat. She skated back, grinning. "It took me an entire winter to perfect that. It's the only move I can do, though."

Syaoran shrugged. "That was still really good. Why don't we call it even?"

"Deal."

The sun was starting to set, Sakura noticed, but it there were enough lights on outside the house to see, and she didn't quite feel like going inside just yet. Syaoran didn't seem to mind, either, as he skated rather contentedly around the pond with her; he even grabbed her hand, as though he were worried she might fall again.

So maybe she _had_ been wrong—maybe he wasn't going to go into one of his crazy mood swings tonight. The mood was too playful for that; what could he possibly get offended or upset about? In fact, it was surprising, how playful they were being. There could have been a lot in that conversation that either of them could have taken to heart and gotten angry over, but that didn't happen—they'd both played along, as if they were old friends. And yet, there was still a sort of tension between them—but there were different kinds of tensions; weren't there good tensions, as well?

Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but she felt something, not just from herself, but from him, too. It felt almost as though he was attracted to her. _He kissed you, though. Even if it was just on the cheek, doesn't that mean something?_ And that picture he'd given her—what did _that_ mean? But as soon as she felt some hope, reason kicked in: her memories flashed back to all of his moody moments, the things he said when he was upset with her. She frowned. It was all so confusing.

"Sakura?"

She looked up at him, immediately wiping the frown off of her face. "Hm?"

"There's some stuff I've kind of been meaning to talk to you about." Syaoran didn't look content anymore; instead, he looked troubled.

"Stuff? Like...what kind of stuff?"

They'd stopped skating, and now they were standing awkwardly on their skates, close to the center of the pond. He was still holding her hand.

He looked at her very intently for a moment, then away, off to the side somewhere. It was taking every bit of effort he could muster not to remove his hand from hers and shove it in his pocket. "Well...okay. I can't make you promise not to get upset...but please give me time to explain everything, all right?"

Sakura's face reverted back to a frown, although this one was more of worry than confusion. "Okay. You're frightening me a little, though," she said, laughing forcefully to break some of the tension.

Syaoran nodded. "I know. I'm really sorry." He clenched his jaw for a moment, and then he exhaled. "Okay. So, there's...a reason—an ulterior motive, I suppose—for why I said yes when you asked me out." He paused, looking at her to gauge her reaction.

But it didn't affect Sakura as badly as she thought news like this would; perhaps somewhere in her subconscious, she'd been expecting news like this. So she simply nodded, keeping herself calm. "Go on."

"Right. Well, the thing is, just earlier that day, Yamazaki and I had been talking at lunch. And you have to understand—Yamazaki is one of the smartest people I know. He just doesn't try in school. He has _such_ potential, and it absolutely kills me that he's going to waste it away after we graduate. You see, he isn't planning to go to college, and Eriol and I can't do anything to convince him otherwise; we've been trying for years—"

"Er...Syaoran, are we still on the same topic?" Sakura had no idea as to how this applied to her.

He nodded, clearly agitated now. Oddly enough, he was still holding her hand. "You'll see. So anyway, that day, Yamazaki and I were talking at lunch, and he was telling me how he couldn't believe that I ever got asked out, because I tend to reject girls pretty often."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "No kidding."

Syaoran paused to make a face. "Look, could we be serious here? This is really hard to get out as it is," he muttered, although he felt slight relief that her reaction wasn't so bad—but then again, he hadn't gotten to the bad part quite yet.

"Okay, okay, sorry."

"It's all right; just let me finish...and then you can make all of the angry comments you want, I promise."

She nodded, still not knowing what to expect.

"Well, after that...Yamazaki made me an offer of sorts. Really, it was kind of like...a bet." He paused, but this time, he couldn't bring himself to look at her. He let go of her hand. "He told me that, if I went out with the next girl who asked me out, he would predict whether or not I could stay in a relationship with her for a month. And if I proved him wrong, he would go to college. And...sure enough, you were the next girl. And I'd felt so bad, I cut your leg and everything..." He tilted his head back to look at the sky, which was completely dark now, save the stars that dotted it. "So, for Yamazaki's sake...I decided to go out with you."

There was a long silence after that. Sakura couldn't quite figure out what she was feeling—there was shock somewhere in there, she knew that much. Among her less dramatic thoughts, she vaguely recognized that it was almost implausible that both of them had started dating each other based on two separate bets. And she didn't know why she would be upset. Technically, what she was doing was worse, right? But that didn't stop the impact—she felt like she'd been slammed full-force by an eighteen-wheel truck. And as she stood there, thinking that it wasn't _so _bad, that it could be worse, her condition seemed to worsen. At first, she felt fine, and then, all of a sudden, it seemed as though her heart had dropped into her stomach and all the blood from her face was rushing to her brain and her mouth couldn't close all the way and why were her hands shaking, they were shaking so hard—

"Sakura?" Syaoran grabbed her shoulders. "Sakura, you need to breathe."

She took in a huge breath of air, but she jerked away from his touch, nearly falling again in the process. She wanted to go inside. She felt awful.

"Please let me finish," he said softly, the anguish clear in his voice. "There's more to it. It can't justify what I did, but..."

Sakura clenched her teeth and shut her eyes tightly, but she nodded. "Go on."

"That's why I said yes to you, even though I'd told you no before. And I'll be honest. I hated it at first. I hated having to give up free time to hang out with you, some girl I barely knew. But I had also assumed things about you, and that was my main problem: I'd thought you were just like any other girl—I'd thought you wanted me because you wanted to be popular and because you wanted for me to buy you things because my family has money. But God, I was wrong. I was so wrong. You're different. You can be annoying as hell, but I even love that about you. You're genuine and kind and you mean what you say, and that's so hard to find, especially with the people I'm around. And when you're confident, you're amazing—and you're getting stronger every day."

He finally mustered up the courage to look at her, and when he did, he couldn't look away anymore. "I might have not meant it when I told you that, yes, I would go out with you—but I mean what I say now: I like you. I like you so much that it's ridiculous. I should be focusing on so many things right now, so many important things—my grades are dropping in school and I haven't been able to properly do a martial arts routine in a week, and I need to get my _life_ back in order, for crying out loud—but I can't, because...I think you've become more important to me than any of that." He sighed. "When I see you, it doesn't matter anymore that my life's not in order. All I have to do is just...talk to you, say a few words, and everything will feel fine."

He couldn't gauge the expression on her face. It was so stoic—so unlike her, really. _I should stop myself. I probably sound like an idiot._ "That's it. That's all I have to say. That, and I'm so sorry, and I wish I could do something to fix all of this."

Sakura swallowed. It was all too much. She couldn't tell if the tears in her eyes were from happiness or disappointment. Part of her wanted to jump for joy, because _he liked her, he liked her_; and another part of her wanted to punch him in the face, because although he liked her, he'd only gotten to know her through a bet; and yet another part of her knew that she was being ridiculous, because really, she was no better. In fact, she was worse; at least Syaoran had done this for his friend. Sakura had merely done the same thing for herself.

She felt something warm on her face and realized that her tears had finally spilled over, and she quickly wiped them away. She looked at him, knowing that he really was sorry; but there was a part of her that hurt so badly, a part that she felt nothing could really fix, not even the fact that he liked her. And so, she found herself turning around very slowly and skating away, looking down at her feet again.

The pain and the happiness and the anger towards herself—it was all consuming her whole. How was she going to survive the next few days here, around all these people—around Syaoran—when now, all she wanted to do, really, was to crawl into bed and be alone for a long, long time? She shook her head, feeling even stupider at her own reaction; any girl would have quickly forgiven and forgotten Syaoran's mistake if he'd revealed that he liked her. Why couldn't she react in the same way?

"Sakura, wait."

She had just reached the edge of the pond when she heard it, his calling out her name; it was so quiet, almost as if he couldn't decide whether or not he really wanted to get her attention.

She stopped, but she couldn't bring herself to turn around.

_I never meant for this to become so complicated._

* * *

"I keep forgetting how quickly the sun sets now," Eriol murmured, pulling his coat around him more tightly.

"Well, it was evening when we'd set off, and we stayed at that coffee shop for a good three hours," Tomoyo replied, smiling.

"Did we, really? Wow, it doesn't feel like three hours."

"I know. But that just means we communicate well."

Eriol grinned. "That's a relief."

After having spent their entire evening talking over four cups of coffee each, Eriol and Tomoyo were trekking back to the cabin, following the road this time to guide themselves back. It really had been a quick evening; they'd talked so much and the time had passed so quickly. The only reason they'd even stopped to realize the time was because Fujitaka had called Tomoyo to ask where they were.

Tomoyo couldn't recall half of the things that they'd conversed over, but she certainly knew a lot more about Eriol now than she had known before. She'd almost regretted going out for coffee on their way there, especially after she'd near-broken down in front of him; but now, she found herself glad that she'd accepted his offer. And in the back of her mind, she felt a certain guilt: she knew she was leaning a bit too heavily on Eriol to help her cope with everything, especially since her own boyfriend hadn't answered his phone or called back in days.

What Tomoyo had learned at the coffee shop both surprised and pleased her. For one, he was a lot more intelligent and less of a ladies' man than she'd thought he was. He seemed very loyal, especially to his friends, and he worked hard at whatever he did. Of course, he had flaws—Tomoyo didn't quite approve of the people he hung around with the exception of Syaoran and Yamazaki, and although he didn't seem to like that crowd very much himself, he seemed to hate conflict so much that he never confronted them—but nobody was perfect, and so she let those things slide.

And she couldn't help but compare him with her boyfriend, Ken, who was also very popular at his school. Ken was sweet to her when they were in private, but when they hung out together with their "friends" from the popular crowd—none of whom Tomoyo was very fond of to begin with—he treated her as though she were more a trophy and not a girl. It was very frustrating, and she'd mentioned it a few times to him, but he'd always convince her that he loved her and that he wasn't doing it on purpose and that he'd never do anything to hurt her. And shallow as it was, Tomoyo found his charm too irresistible, and so she'd merely nod in agreement, eventually giving in to his lies and his kisses.

Eriol, on the other hand, she couldn't see being like that. She'd decided as she watched him over coffee that he seemed far too true to his word to be like that. If he liked a girl, he would treat her with respect no matter where they were or who they were with...and if he told a girl that he'd never do anything to hurt her, he'd mean it...

_Snap out of it. He's not your boyfriend; Ken is._

And besides, Ken had plenty of redeeming qualities: despite all of their issues, they clearly loved each other—Tomoyo had no doubt about that. And he was so tuned in to her every emotion that, upon seeing her, he wouldn't even have to ask; if she was having a bad day, he'd know automatically. And he wouldn't even have to say anything. He'd merely look at her, hold her hand, give her a hug, and Tomoyo would automatically just feel so much better. It was incredible.

And, not to mention, he was ridiculously attractive—he'd been born to a Dutch soccer-player father and a Japanese mother, and he was tall and athletic and well-built; and as a result of his mixed ethnicity, he had crystal-clear dark blue eyes and caramel hair. He looked like a sports model one would find only in magazines or on large, full-campaign posters at a department store.

But that didn't mean Eriol _wasn't_ attractive; he was a different kind of attractive, an English gentleman kind of attractive...a princely kind of attractive. But Tomoyo had never fallen for that kind of guy before.

Ken, on the other hand, was the very embodiment of every boy Tomoyo had ever dated before: he looked like a rock star and he lived the life of a high school golden boy. But where would he be once they graduated? His grades weren't very good, and he was still undecided on college. Would he still be living off of his parents' money?

She sighed. It was a very grey-area type of issue, this whole Ken situation. She loved him, but she wasn't sure where it was going. He seemed to be losing interest, and although Tomoyo fervently believed that long-distance relationships could work with effort, she knew it would only work if _both_ sides put in that effort. And at present, it felt very one-sided. On top of that, knowing that Eriol—a perfectly good guy—must have some sort of interest in her wasn't helping at all.

She shook her head and put those thoughts out of her mind, focusing instead on what was in front of her. They were just reaching the front of the lodge now, the pond and the cabin in plain sight. Eriol suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a snow bank.

"Ow, Eriol, what the—"

"Shhh," he said, holding a finger up to his lips.

"Way to be dramatic," she whispered, rubbing her arm. "Ow."

He grimaced. "Sorry. But look over there." He leaned up ever so slightly so that his the snow bank still concealed every part of him except the top of his head, and he pointed in front of them. Tomoyo leaned up as well and followed his gaze.

There on the pond stood Sakura and Syaoran, Sakura at the edge of the pond, her back to him, and Syaoran looking at her with the most peculiar expression his face. It was so uncanny, Tomoyo thought; she'd never have thought she'd ever see him look so sad.

"I guess the jig is up," Eriol muttered.

"The jig?" Tomoyo frowned. "You mean the bet?"

Eriol looked at her with wide eyes. "You know about the bet?"

She nodded. "I've known for a little while. Yamazaki let it slip, and then I kind of made him explain everything to me."

He sighed. "Figures. He really does like her, you know. I hope they stay together."

Tomoyo sat back down, drawing her knees up to her chest and playing with her hair to avoid his gaze. She felt so guilty, knowing that Sakura was doing the same thing Syaoran had apparently just confessed to. "Yeah. Let's give them some privacy."

"Right." Eriol stood up, and with Tomoyo right behind him, headed back towards the cabin, making sure to stay out of sight.

* * *

"Sakura, just...could you say something? Please? Or at least...turn around and look at me?" Syaoran had never felt so desperate and miserable in his life.

Sakura bit her lip, unsure of what to do. He did sound genuinely sorry...

She closed her eyes and wiped her tears with the back of her hand—she didn't want him to see her crying, at least—and she turned around. She looked up at him, knowing she'd regret it; it would take every bit of willpower she had to hold everything in. She had to stall. "I'll meet you inside, okay?"

He looked at her bewilderedly, but after a moment, he nodded. "Sure."

* * *

After having composed herself, Sakura made her way down from her room into the living room, now empty; earlier in the evening, while Syaoran and she had been outside, everyone else had gathered here and socialized over hot chocolate. Empty mugs were still left on the table, as most of the guests were too tired to clean up after themselves tonight.

She sat down on one of the sofas, still torn between what to do and how to react. But she had no time to think particularly hard about it, because at that moment, Syaoran walked in the room, looking as wretched as Sakura felt. He raised an eyebrow at her, asking without words if he could sit down next to her, and she nodded, although she avoided his gaze.

She pursed her lips, trying to decide what to say. She'd feel like such a hypocrite if she said anything about his bet, but that didn't stop the hurting. She felt like he'd taken her heart out of her body but only returned half—he liked her, yes, but what did that matter if he hadn't taken the time to get to like her of his own accord? Finally, she sighed. "This is a lot more complicated to me than you'd think."

Syaoran laughed bitterly. "Everything's a lot more complicated than I'd like to think at this point."

Sakura shook her head. "You don't understand. It's so...it's so hard." She folded her hands together in her lap and stared down, her shoulders hunched. She hadn't felt this insignificant around him in awhile. "It's not as easy as you're making it out to be—'I didn't want to date you, but I ended up doing it because my best friend told me to, but it's okay because now I like you'—that's how you're describing it. And I only _wish_ it could be that simple. But it's not. I have my secrets, too, you know. There's so much I wish I could say," she whispered.

Very tentatively, Syaoran reached over to her and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. He felt the knot in his stomach loosen ever so slightly when she didn't flinch away. "You can tell me, you know," he said quietly.

Sakura clenched her teeth. She hated that, even after all of this, a single touch from him could make her thoughts completely jumbled and incoherent. It took her a moment to focus. She shook her head. "I can't," she said, and urged back her tears. "It would hurt you."

Syaoran frowned. "It would hurt me? But how?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Syaoran thought for a moment, and he felt a smile tug at his lips. "Maybe not quite yet. Even if it is in my best interest."

She hesitated. "All right." _What am I doing? I'm going to have to tell him sooner or later!_ But the words were already out of her mouth, and she felt it was too late to take them back. Despite her efforts, she felt the tears well up, and she couldn't quite see what was in front of her anymore. She didn't know why she wasn't telling him about her own bet—it was so selfish of her not to. Instead, she found herself telling him something completely different—true, but different: "I like you, too, okay? What you said back there, it made me so happy. But I don't know if I can keep this up, especially knowing that you only took the time to get to know me because you were forced to. That hurts me," she said, placing her hand against her heart. "If Yamazaki hadn't asked you to take that bet, or if you had said no to him, where would we be right now?"

Syaoran groaned. "But that doesn't—" He stopped himself and grabbed Sakura's shoulders again, making sure he had her attention. "I'm not saying it doesn't matter; what I did was really wrong. But why should it make any difference how I got to know you? Isn't it more important that I _did_? If you like me and I like you, why can't we just..." He sighed. "Why is this so difficult?"

"Maybe we're just making it difficult," she replied, realizing something. She knew exactly why she wasn't telling him: this entire time, she'd felt so guilty about everything—for the past week, it had been eating at her, gnawing away at her strength. She had nothing left. She was so tired of not being selfish. Wasn't it okay to be selfish, if only once in a very, very long while? "Maybe...maybe it _could_ be that simple."

Syaoran smiled. "You think so?"

She nodded, still unable to look at him, this time more out of (rapidly diminishing) guilt rather than sadness.

He hesitated a moment, but only for that moment—and then, almost without realizing what he was doing, he gently lifted her chin with his hand, tilting her face upward towards him, and he brought his own face close to hers. "How?"

Sakura was suddenly aware of everything at once—she could feel the heat of the fire on her face and the slightly rough touch of Syaoran's hand on her chin and the force of his gaze on her features. It was all too much to feel, especially paired with her heart, which was now working overtime, to find coherent words. "I...don't know. You tell me."

And with that, he closed the gap between them and kissed her.

She felt slightly surprised—she'd only half-expected it to happen. She could feel the uncertainty in his lips, the unasked question: was he allowed to do this?

And he shouldn't have been allowed to—both for her sake and for his.

But by this point, Sakura was just so tired of following the rules, and she was far too attracted by the feeling of letting it all go—and so she did. She let go all of the fear and the guilt and the pain and the anger, latching on only to her hope and her happiness and completely pushing aside the screaming "HYPOCRITE" that was rushing through her brain on repeat at a hundred miles an hour.

She let it all go, and she kissed him back.

* * *

Wellll, that's it for now. I hope it was satisfying! This chapter is slightly shorter than usual, but what it lacks in quantity, I hope it makes up for in quality. This is a big chapter as far as content goes.

They finally kissed! I really hope I didn't do this too soon. But I've spent a long time trying to build it up, and even though it's only two weeks in their time, they've been through a lot together. Also, I hope I didn't make Sakura come across as _too_ selfish in this chapter. She's developing as a person—getting braver and taking more risks—but at the same time, anyone who develops as a person should know that, here and there, you'll take a couple of missteps. And I can hardly call that kiss a misstep ;D And simultaneously, you can see Syaoran becoming more of a real person; you got to see his flaws from the start of the story, but now you can see Sakura's flaws coming more into play. Of course, that doesn't mean either of them are bad people, but they're both stuck in a rather unfavorable situation. The question is, how do they get out of it? :)

All right, sorry for the rambling. Thanks for reading! Please review!

-boreum dal


	11. Closure

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everyone! As usual, I'm so sorry for updating late. / I really did try—but over the summer, I wasn't at home, and school started immediately after I got home. And then I had to take tests and apply for colleges, and I had to fight hard to get out of a writer's block. But I'm back, and I have definite inspiration for the next few chapters. So hopefully, those will be up soon. Speaking of colleges, I'm a senior in high school now—I started writing here when I was in sixth grade or so. **So, I just want to thank everyone who's supported me over the last six years—when my writing was bad and when my writing was good—and this chapter is particularly long, all for you guys. **While that doesn't make up for my ridiculously long absence, I hope it's a start, and I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 11: **Closure

_This is all so incredibly surreal._

Sakura sat huddled up on the sofa, watching the fire blaze in the fireplace before her. She was still sitting here, hours after everything had taken place, completely shocked and unable to sleep. She glanced at the clock—it was close to two in the morning now—and then she looked over at Syaoran, who had fallen asleep beside her, his head nodding toward his chest. _That'll hurt when he wakes up,_ she thought, and carefully, she tilted his head back so that it leaned on the back of the sofa instead.

She smiled to herself. It could have been like one of those cliched, cheesy movies, she thought, where the girl fell asleep and the guy would casually let her head rest on his shoulder. Although, there was a bit of a role reversal in this case. That, and she didn't quite have the backbone to let him sleep on her shoulder. It was so funny—they'd kissed, committed an act that was far more intimate than letting someone sleep on another's shoulder—but she was still nervous about things that were seemingly inconsequential.

For awhile after it happened, they had simply sat on the sofa and talked for hours—more freely than Sakura had ever remembered—about all kinds of things. She should have felt awful and nervous and terrible over what had just happened, she knew: she was clearly crossing the line now, for Syaoran had confessed to his own crimes, while she still hadn't. But for some reason, she didn't feel that way at all. She felt relaxed and at ease. She blamed the sudden epiphany she'd had earlier; just for tonight, she decided, she would be selfish. She would leave the worrying until the next day, and she would figure it all out then.

She leaned back into the sofa, mimicking Syaoran's pose, and she ran a hand through her hair.

He had fallen asleep about twenty minutes earlier. He'd been so insistent on staying up and talking with her—"something they'd never gotten to do before," he'd said—that he'd ignored the fact that he yawned every twenty minutes or so. He'd talked until his words began to slur and he started to doze in between words, at which point Sakura had finally laughed and told him that he could go to sleep if he wanted to. And with one last apology, he'd fallen asleep almost immediately, something Sakura found rather adorable.

It was, indeed, very surreal; things had changed drastically in the past two weeks. She had no idea where this was going. She didn't even know what to expect out of herself anymore. She looked over again at Syaoran, still sleeping peacefully, the sound of his breathing audible and going at a slow, steady rhythm. For once, he looked relaxed: his brows weren't furrowed, his shoulders weren't squared, there was no frown set on his face. He just looked...normal.

She could feel her own lids getting heavy, as she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and she usually didn't stay up this late anyway. But she didn't want to sleep, because she dreaded tomorrow: tomorrow meant that she would have to be responsible again, would have to sort through the mess that she'd created for herself. She felt a headache coming on just thinking about it.

"Ugh," she sighed softly, and she wished Syaoran hadn't fallen asleep. If he'd stayed up, she'd be able to stay up, too. _I guess it's time to face the facts, though._ Ignoring her issues for one night wouldn't solve anything, and not sleeping wasn't going to make the next day come any less quickly. Quietly, she got up off the sofa and grabbed the blanket she'd been using to cover herself, draping it over Syaoran.

"Good night," she whispered, although she knew he couldn't hear, and she walked out of the room.

* * *

Syaoran awoke with a start, briefly looking around and wondering where he was before remembering everything. Squinting his eyes at the bright light of the fire, he looked down at himself to see the blanket Sakura had been using around him. He looked over to the area of the sofa where Sakura had been sitting and realized she must have gone to her room. He felt bad; he'd been the one who had wanted to stay up and talk in the first place, and he'd been the first to fall asleep. Yawning, he stood up and made his way to his room.

As he passed Sakura's room, he saw that her light was still on and her door still slightly ajar. He gently knocked, but when there was no answer, he pushed the door open a bit wider. Sakura was asleep, a book open in her hand and her head lopsided on the pillow. He laughed quietly to himself at the funny position she was in, and he carefully took the book out of her hand and put it on the nightstand.

He'd surprised himself this evening; he had never been so open with anyone outside of his family and best friends before. He wanted to beat himself up for not having seen earlier that any of this would happen, but he knew it would be useless: when it came to Sakura, his life was unpredictable—he couldn't have seen it coming, really. But he was happy with the way things had turned out; he could sleep now, knowing that she knew the truth. Granted, he hadn't quite forgiven himself for taking on the bet yet, but at least she knew. And she'd willingly kissed him back and sat with him for hours afterwards—that meant she had somewhat forgiven him, right?

There was one thing that still set his mind ill at ease, though—she had said earlier that she knew things that could hurt him. What had she meant by that? He almost regretted telling her that he didn't want to know, because his mind was burning with curiosity, but he shook his head and willed himself to stop thinking about it. If it was something he really needed to know, he figured, he'd eventually find out anyway.

He turned out the lamp and began to walk out of the room, but he stopped and turned around at the last minute. After hesitating for a moment, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "'Night, Sakura."

* * *

"Syaoran, get up! Eriol and I are about to walk down to the cafe to get some breakfast!" Yamazaki yelled as he pounced on the bed, startling Syaoran awake at once. He sat up, looking around frantically for a moment before realizing that it was only his rather harmless friend.

"Was that really necessary?" Syaoran groaned, lying back down and covering his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Yep," Yamazaki replied cheekily, knowing that his friend was too tired at the moment to assault him. "Get up! You're usually up earlier than I am. What's wrong with you?"

"What time is it?"

"Eight in the morning."

"Ugh," Syaoran muttered and rolled over onto his side, covering his head with his pillow. "I only fell asleep four hours ago."

"Why?"

"I don't know, I couldn't sleep. I was up talking to Sakura for awhile and I fell asleep around two, but then I woke up and I couldn't fall asleep again. I had too much to think about, I guess."

Yamazaki lifted the pillow off of Syaoran's head and looked at him. "Something you wanna share?"

Syaoran looked up at Yamazaki with increasingly fading frustration, and then he finally sat up and rubbed his eyes. "I guess I could use a cup of coffee. There's really not much to share, but I guess I'll tell you on the way there. Give me a few minutes, though, would you?"

* * *

Sakura lay in her bed, curled up on her side with her arms around her knees to keep warm. She'd woken up an hour ago, but she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed yet. She didn't _want_ to think about it, but there was no avoiding it: something had to be done about the bet. She couldn't just keep ignoring it and hoping it would go away, because now she was the one at fault. Eventually, Mai would want to know about those dates, and with Sakura's luck, Mai would probably ask Syaoran about it.

She furrowed her brow as she thought of what she could do. She wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, but how would she go about that? She could just call it off, as she'd been planning to do—she was more than willing to admit her loss to Mai, just as long as that meant she was no longer _obligated_ to go out with Syaoran. If she called the bet off, that would mean that she was hanging out with Syaoran out of her own will. It wouldn't necessarily right her wrongs, but it would be a start.

She laughed at the thought that, although Syaoran really did like her, she'd technically be losing the bet: both of them had forgotten about their third date. Sakura had only just remembered—in the excitement of figuring out plans for the trip, neither of them had quite remembered on Friday night that they'd made plans to go out.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt better; canceling the bet would give her a clean start, and it would put things in perspective. She'd still have to figure out how to explain it to Syaoran, but wouldn't it be better to say "I _was_ going out with you because of a bet" rather than "I _am_ going out with you because of a bet?"

She grimaced. She knew neither was preferable, but the former seemed much better to her than the latter.

Sakura finally got out of bed and got ready for the day, feeling slightly relieved. Just the idea of having some sort of plan made her feel that much better, and she felt that she could function now without having guilt overpower her every thought. She still felt guilty—there was no erasing what she'd already done—but at least she could improve what was to come.

After showering, she threw on a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, and a pair of jeans, and she headed out the door, nearly bumping into Syaoran, who'd been walking to her room.

"Oh, good morning," Sakura said, startled. "You're up early." She eyed the clock on the wall of the hallway—it was a little after eight in the morning now.

"Good morning," he said back, grinning. "And I could say the same for you."

Sakura shrugged. "I woke up early and I couldn't go back to sleep."

"Well, I'm not really up willingly...Yamazaki is the most persistent alarm clock ever. I'm going for coffee with him and Eriol, actually." He focused on a point just to the side of Sakura's head, not looking directly at her. "You can come, too. You know, if you want, I mean."

Sakura smiled at the attempt at a nonchalant offer. "It's all right. I've got some homework the teachers gave me over break to work on, anyway."

She knew it was a poor excuse, but she didn't know if she was quite relieved enough to go have breakfast with Syaoran and his friends yet, and she had to figure out how she was going to contact Mai to cancel the bet.

Syaoran shrugged. "Suit yourself. The adults are in the dining room having breakfast right now, actually." He began to walk past her and down the hallway, but he stopped and turned around after a moment. "My other sisters are coming in today, so we have to stick around here in the afternoon to greet them...but do you wanna do something later tonight? There's actually this place I wanted to show you."

Sakura nodded. "That sounds nice."

Syaoran inclined his head toward her once, and then he turned around and walked away. He sighed in frustration. _God, trying to act like nothing happened last night is a lot harder than I thought it'd be._

* * *

Sakura wracked her brain as she lay on her bed, trying to figure out how she would get ahold of Mai. Her hope had worn off somewhat, and now she was facing doubts—very reasonable doubts—that Mai would not let her off the hook so easily.

She had always wondered to herself in the back of her mind why exactly Mai had ever issued the bet to her. There had to be _some_ reason besides simply wanting to make Sakura's life a living hell, right? But perhaps Sakura was giving her too much credit. She believed there was at least a little humanity in everyone, but Mai may well have been the statistical anomaly.

In any case, Mai was miles and miles away from Tomoeda now, so there was no reaching her in person; the only other thing Sakura could think of was to phone her. But how would she manage that without a phone number? She supposed Syaoran or Eriol would have it—they hung out with Mai's crowd every so often—but even if they'd left their phones here while going for coffee, she didn't know if she could bring herself to just raid their phones like that. But it was a rather urgent matter...

Sakura got up and tiptoed to Syaoran's room, feeling a bit ridiculous, but she found herself completely unable to resist once she saw his cell phone sitting on his desk. She walked over to it, her palms sweaty with nerves, and stared at it for a few moments. She nearly laughed—it would have been funny, that it had come to this, if the matter weren't so nerve-wracking. Finally, she looked through his contacts, searching until she found the name she'd been looking for: Mai Souda. With trembling fingers, Sakura dialed the number, and she held the phone to her ear, listening to the ringing sound. She wanted to throw up, she couldn't do it, she was going to hang up—

"Hello?" Rather suddenly, Mai's voice had replaced the ringing noise.

"U-uh, is this Mai?"

"Yes..." The voice trailed off. It was funny, but her voice sounded a lot nicer on the phone. Despite their confrontation the last time they'd met, this gave Sakura some more confidence.

"This is Sakura."

"Oh, Kinomoto. I thought you were Syaoran," Mai said, and her tone suddenly got slightly harsher.

Sakura chose to ignore this; she just wanted to get everything overwith. "I have something important to ask you."

Mai answered with silence, so Sakura continued hesitantly. "Well...I wanted to call off the bet."

There was a brief period of silence before Mai spoke. "Are you kidding?"

Sakura pursed her lips and stared at the ground. She felt stupid—she was nervous, even when she couldn't see Mai's face. "I—I don't know...I just..." She took a deep breath and tried to remember that she was doing this for Syaoran. "This is wrong. I hate doing it. I can't do it anymore."

"Oh, look at you, trying to be a saint all of a sudden."

"No, Mai, this isn't about me."

"Really, now?" The skepticism in Mai's voice was loud and clear.

"Look. Syaoran is a_ good_ person, and he hasn't done anything to deserve this. I don't want to hurt him anymore, okay?" With every passing second, Sakura wanted to give up more and more—she felt herself losing the argument—but what would become of Syaoran if she couldn't convince Mai?

Mai scoffed. "A good person. Right. Are you listening to the words coming out of your own mouth, Kinomoto? You're the one who agreed to do this. No deal."

Sakura gritted her teeth, her frustration and fear and anger coming to a peak. "Mai, _please!_ This isn't about me anymore, okay? I don't care what you say about me. I don't care if you think I'm a bad person. I think I'm a bad person, too. But Syaoran isn't. He doesn't need this. If he finds out about this, it'll kill him. And if I have to keep doing it, it'll kill me, too. Please," she repeated, her voice lowering to a whisper. "I'll do anything."

Another long pause. And then, "You really want this, don't you, Kinomoto?" And for the first time, Sakura could detect no trace of malice in Mai's voice.

"More than you know."

"Why?"

"What?" Sakura responded automatically, surprised. She hadn't expected this.

"You heard me. Why do you want it so badly?"

"You know why. I told you—Syaoran doesn't deserve—"

"Cut the bullshit and tell me the truth, please, or I won't let you off."

Sakura felt her palms sweating. It was like Mai already knew. "Fine. I..." But she couldn't bring herself to say it, not to Mai, who would undoubtedly use it against her...

"Spit it out, Kinomoto."

"But you know already," Sakura whispered, clutching the phone more tightly.

"Know what?" Mai said, her voice a little too innocent.

Sakura sighed, once again reminding herself that this was not for her, but for Syaoran. "I like him...a lot."

Mai laughed. "I figured."

Frustrated, Sakura had to restrain herself from shouting. "Then why did you make me say it?"

"So, what did you want me to do again? Cancel the bet, was it?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Remember what I said before, Kinomoto? I hold all the cards here. You're not in a position to argue with me."

Sakura nearly laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Once again, she felt like she was dealing with the mafia. She felt her grip on the phone slacken. "...Yes, I wanted you to cancel the bet."

There was a second where nothing was said, but Sakura could feel it lasting for hours—she felt like an idiot for even thinking about calling—

"Fine. It's off."

Sakura felt her eyes go wide. "What?"

"Are you deaf? It's off."

"R-really?" She could have hugged Mai at that moment. "Oh, my God. Really?"

"Quit spazzing out. Yes, it's off. You make the biggest deals out of dumb things. Anyway, I'm busy, so I'm gonna go now. See you around."

"Thank you so much," Sakura said, but Mai hung up before she could say goodbye.

Sakura held the phone in her hands, staring at it in awe. For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe.

* * *

Mai stared at the wall of her bedroom, leaning back in her chair. She didn't really understand what she'd just done.

Sakura Kinomoto had never really been a subject of interest to her. They had been good friends in middle school, but even then, Mai had been the more playful, adventurous one. Sakura had always been level-headed—a bit _too_ level-headed, even borderline cowardly—and while the trait had served as a good balance, it began to get annoying and burdensome by the time high school had rolled around. So, very simply, Mai had just stopped talking to the girl.

And she could see that it had hurt Sakura; when they passed each other in the halls for the first few months of high school, Sakura's gaze, sad and a little lonely, trailed after Mai as she pretended not to see. But she had forced herself to not care. There were more important things to worry about in high school, and eventually, Mai just forgot about Sakura altogether.

But on occasion, when Mai thought about her, she did kind of miss her.

Mai's friends—Chiharu, Meiling, Naoko—had also been friends with Sakura in middle school, but they had seemed to take a disdain to Sakura with even more vigor than Mai had. In all truth, it got annoying sometimes; they took a certain pleasure in walking all over Sakura that Mai just didn't share. But they were her friends, and Sakura was not, and so Mai went along with it. And then, when she went along with it, she often found herself overdoing it, to the point where she had hurt Sakura's feelings _way_ more than she'd meant to.

Mai shifted uneasily in her chair. She felt guilty. But what could she do? She was nothing without her friends—if she ever showed any sign of weakness, or, God forbid, mercy, they'd automatically know that they could walk all over her the same way they could with Sakura, and _then_ where would she be? She'd lose her status. She'd be a nobody.

She hadn't really even meant to start that bet... She'd simply been walking down the hall, and out of the corner of her eye, she'd seen Sakura rushing to her next class, looking panicked and slightly harassed. Her friends had seen at the same time, and immediately, the attacks had started.

"_Look at that hair. How old is she again? Forty-five?"_

_Laughter._

"_Guys, we're gonna be late," Naoko whined._

"_We're already late. What does it matter? Besides, Terada-sensei loves us. Come on, let's go have some fun," Mai found herself responding. "Meiling, do you have a twenty on you? Oh, this will be hilarious."_

Mai pursed her lips, thinking back to her motives. She knew she'd gotten carried away. On top of trying to impress her friends, she had also wanted to conduct a social experiment of sorts. In spite of common opinion, she herself had no interest in Syaoran Li. He was dull to her. What kind of sixteen-year-old boy of his status had never had a date before?

But she knew that he had high standards. She'd been skeptical; she'd never thought that he would actually fall for Sakura. So when she'd seen them together at Eriol's party, she'd felt infuriated, partially to her own bewilderment.

She was even surprised that Sakura had fallen for Syaoran—or seemed to have, anyway, judging by what she'd said over the phone. He wasn't necessarily the nicest guy around, and she was such a pushover. Who'd have thought they'd go together?

And she had to wonder...what was it about Sakura that interested Syaoran so much, anyway? What was it that Mai _didn't _have?

She sighed. _Whatever._ The bet was over. Technically, she'd won; Sakura had forfeited. But she felt a lot like she'd lost, anyway.

* * *

"Holy shit. I'm going to college."

Syaoran smirked as he watched the panic run briefly over his best friend's face.

Yamazaki shook his head and repeated himself, except this time, in the form of a question. "I'm going to college?"

Syaoran shrugged. "I guess you are."

"Ah, but the bet's not over—you have to wait till January, remember?" Eriol cut in.

"Shut up," Syaoran growled. "I'm this close to winning..."

They were trekking to the cafe now, all wrapped up against the more-bitter-than-usual cold. Syaoran was beginning to wonder to himself if this trip had been necessary; the warmth of the kitchen in the lodge seemed much more preferable.

"You and Sakura Kinomoto. Who'd have thought," Eriol mused out loud.

Syaoran sighed. "Is it really that unbelievable?"

Yamazaki shrugged. "I can believe it. But I guess that's because I've seen you two together so much in the last few weeks."

"I mean, it's not like hell's frozen over or anything. She's just a girl I happen to like."

"Yeah, but you're not_ just_ a guy, remember? Every girl in the school lines up for you. Nobody even knows who Sakura is. And besides, you've never even gone out with anyone before, which is kind of unheard of," Eriol reminded him.

"Whatever. I refuse to believe that it's that big of a deal."

"Well, you're in for a rude awakening when we get back to school, then," Yamazaki chirped. "Everyone's going to flip out."

Syaoran pushed Yamazaki over into a snowbank and kept walking.

"You know," Yamazaki called out, pulling himself out of the snowbank and brushing himself off, "I never signed up for this kind of abuse when we became friends!"

Syaoran and Eriol didn't stop walking.

Yamazaki sighed. "Wait up, guys!" And he ran after them, trying not to trip into more snow.

* * *

"He told you?"

Sakura nodded. "Last night."

"Well, what happened? What did you say to him?" Tomoyo sat on Sakura's bed, bouncing with excitement. "You don't look particularly upset. This must mean something good came out of it, right?"

Sakura shifted around uncomfortably. "Well, I mean...I don't know. I was upset for awhile, but he explained all of this stuff to me, and...he _likes_ me. I couldn't even believe it. And then, I don't know what came over me, but I just forgot about being angry, and he kissed me. Or maybe he kissed me and then I forgot about being angry." She sighed and shut her eyes. "The truth is, I could never stay angry at him. I have no right to."

Tomoyo made a face. "I forgot. The bet..."

"Yeah, but the thing is, I called Mai this morning, and I—"

"You did _what_?"

"I called her. From Syaoran's phone. And I forfeited. I'm no longer under any kind of obligation to date him—I can do everything out of my own free will." Sakura smiled.

"That's fantastic! But what are you going to do about the past few weeks, then?" Tomoyo furrowed her brow. "I'm not trying to be a downer, but it's not like some of _that_ was out of your free will."

"I know." Sakura looked down at her hands for a minute, and then she looked at Tomoyo with a look of resolve on her face. "I'm going to tell him. I'm just going to wait. I don't want to ruin his vacation."

"That's...considerate of you, I guess."

"Well, I mean...I just need to figure out how to break it to him. It's not all about him—I need some time, too."

"That sounds reasonable." Tomoyo smiled. "I'm proud of you. You're already so different from the way you were—and in a good way."

Sakura grinned. "I could take that as a bad thing or a good thing."

Just then, Sakura's father hollered from downstairs. "Sakura, Tomoyo, the rest of the Li sisters are here! Come down to greet them!"

* * *

Sakura had been wrong about Syaoran's sisters: they were not as crazy as Feimei.

They were crazier.

They came in screaming and squealing as they hugged Feimei and their mother, who looked all too used to the commotion. Sakura noticed that Syaoran had gotten back just in time to catch his sisters' arrival, but to her amusement, he looked horrified that he had, and he had backed himself into a corner of the room with a wary look on his face. He exchanged a grimace with Sakura, who merely grinned back.

After they attacked their little brother, however, the tables were turned as Feimei introduced Sakura as "Syaoran's almost-girlfriend." Sakura had barely enough time to turn beet-red before the girls looked at her and squealed in unison, rushing over to pinch her cheeks and poke and prod at her. Over all of the fuss, she saw Syaoran mouth to her to meet him outside, and he slipped out of the room as quietly as he had come.

Sakura mentally cursed him as he left, submitting herself to more harassment by Syaoran's sisters. _Maybe this is the punishment I get for not telling him about the bet._

* * *

"You could have warned me a bit more diligently about your sisters, you know," Sakura groused as she walked with Syaoran, rubbing at her cheek.

Syaoran laughed. "Sorry. I kind of forgot about them for awhile. But now you know," he said, shrugging sheepishly.

"Yeah, but how am I supposed to avoid them for an entire week in the same house? Oh, well. At least they're nice. So where are we going?"

Syaoran grinned. "Well, there's this really old toy store down the hill by the cafe. I used to go to it all the time when I was a kid. I hadn't been in a long time, so I thought it'd be nice to go back and see everything again. Do you mind?"

Sakura shook her head. "I think that'd be nice, actually."

They chatted very casually as they made their way down the hill, but Sakura noticed that he was very carefully avoiding touching her at all, as if the previous night had made it some kind of taboo. She very briefly, comically thought about deliberately slipping so he'd have to help her up, but that seemed a little too low, and so she decided against it. If he was going to hold her hand or hug her or kiss her or anything of the sort, he'd have to do it out of his own desire.

"Here," Syaoran said, interrupting her thoughts.

She followed his gaze and saw before her an old-fashioned toy store. Covered in snow and with old teddy bears and wooden dollhouses behind the large display window, it looked like something straight out of a Christmas cartoon.

"It's...charming," Sakura said, unable to think of any other word for it.

Syaoran laughed. "Yeah, it is. I'm relieved that it's still open. Wanna go inside?"

Sakura nodded and followed him into the store, where the owner greeted them with a kindly smile. She was a small, elderly woman who fit with the image of the store perfectly—she looked like she could have been Santa Claus' wife.

Syaoran strolled through the aisles, pointing out to Sakura various things that he had played with as a child. "I really loved those wooden airplanes," he said, pointing up at the toy airplanes hanging from the ceiling. "Sometimes, when my sisters were feeling nice, they'd come play with me, and we'd have little battles—airplanes versus cars, and..." He trailed off, the smile on his face infectious—Sakura found herself smiling, too.

"I like when you talk about your childhood," Sakura murmured. She felt like she had to be quiet; the store itself was so quiet, and she and Syaoran and the shop owner were the only people in the entire store. "When did you stop playing with all of those toys?"

"About the same time I started martial arts, I suppose," Syaoran replied indifferently, perusing dusty boxes of model cars.

Sakura opened her mouth to say something, but then she frowned. "That's sad," she said quietly, almost to herself.

"Sad?" Syaoran looked up. "Why?"

Sakura shrugged. "I don't know...weren't you still a small child when you started martial arts?"

"Yeah. Your point?"

"Well...it's almost like you got a vital part of your childhood stolen away from you," she replied. "It just...it doesn't seem very fair to you."

Syaoran scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're way too sentimental. I'm fine."

Sakura stared at him for a moment, and then she laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not such a big deal, huh?" She continued down the aisle of toys, leaving Syaoran to stare after her.

He pondered her words briefly, unable to comprehend her feelings. He hadn't missed out on his childhood, had he? He remembered once more his abusive martial arts teacher and the suffering that he had gone through as a mere ten-year-old. Okay, maybe she was a _little_ right.

He squared his shoulders and continued down the aisle after her. Whatever fun he'd missed out on as a child, he decided, he'd make up for this one week.

As he rounded the corner of the aisle, he looked around for Sakura, but she had disappeared somewhere. It wasn't that big of a store; where had she gone? "Sakura?"

No answer.

"Sakura, where'd you go?" He walked farther towards the back of the store, peeking from aisle to aisle. He stopped at the last aisle as he finally spotted her; she was standing in the stuffed animals aisle, holding a small stuffed bear at arm's length and squinting at it.

"Does looking at a stuffed animal really take that much thought?" Syaoran asked amusedly, eyeing the expression on her face.

Sakura laughed. "Shut up. You thought _you_ had a flashback to your past...this looks exactly like the stuffed bear I lost when I was six."

"You remember that kind of stuff?"

"Yeah! It was important to me," Sakura murmured. "My mother gave it to me. It was one of my closest reminders of her." She sat down, almost tiredly, on the floor, leaning against a wall cushioned with rows of stuffed animals.

Syaoran sat down beside her. "You lost it?"

Sakura nodded. "I looked for it for months. I have no idea what happened to it. When I finally gave up, I felt this most ridiculous feeling—almost like I'd lost my mom again, even though it was just a stupid stuffed animal. I'm pretty sure I cried for days."

Syaoran played with his hands uncomfortably. "Well..." He thought of something brusque to say to snap her out of it, but he couldn't think of anything. "I'm sorry. About your mother. And the bear."

Sakura smiled. "Thank you. This looks exactly like it, though, it's insane—well, not 'it.' More like 'him'—I named him and everything, you know. I called him Kero." She laughed. "I probably sound crazy, talking about an inanimate object like this."

Syaoran said nothing, only looking at her instead. He saw the way her eyes gleamed. And he wanted to laugh—it really was just a stupid teddy bear—but he couldn't bring himself to. He'd lost his father early on; he knew what it was like to miss a parent. Finally, he said, "Why don't you buy that one?"

Sakura shrugged. "It's actually pretty expensive, even though it's so tiny. I don't have a lot of money to spend up here, anyway."

"I could buy it for you," he said, looking intently at the bear and pointedly not at her.

"What? No! No, Syaoran, I'm already up here on your family's kindness. I can't take anything else from you."

"Well, you'll have to eventually—Christmas is the day after tomorrow. So why don't you just get used to accepting gifts?"

"Syaoran, the price on this bear is ridiculous."

Syaoran scoffed and took the bear out of Sakura's hands, examining the price tag. "It's not that bad." He stood up and began walking over to the sales counter. "I'm getting it."

"Syaoran, wait—" Sakura scrambled up after him.

"I didn't say I was getting it for you," he said casually. The shop owner rung up the bear, and before Sakura knew it, Syaoran was pulling out his wallet and sliding a credit card through the scanner.

Sakura sighed. She knew what he was doing, and she couldn't—and maybe didn't want to—stop him.

* * *

"I don't know what I'm going to do." Eriol paced back and forth in his room, his feet thudding on the wooden floor with each step, as Yamazaki sat on the bed, watching him with a worried expression on his face.

"You could just tell her, you know," Yamazaki said. It was so unlike his friend to worry about things like this.

"Tell her? Tell her what?" Eriol muttered. "That she should dump her boyfriend, whom she's happened to know for a much longer time than she's known me, so she can go out with me because I'm pathetically infatuated with her?"

"Er...basically, but that could use some rewording—watch it!" Yamazaki shouted, dodging a knickknack that Eriol threw at him. "Jeez, you're turning as touchy as Syaoran..."

Eriol sighed and sat down beside Yamazaki. "Sorry. This just all feels kind of stupid," he laughed. "I don't usually focus so intently on one girl like this, I guess."

"Yeah, you don't. Which is why it's scaring me a little."

"Sorry," Eriol repeated. "I just...God. We have an entire week before we go back home. I don't know if I can stand spending that long with her when I know that I don't even have a shot."

Yamazaki scratched his head uncomfortably. "I'm not really one for advice on this kind of stuff, you know...but don't think about it. Just hang out and see where it takes you."

Eriol looked out the window, nodding. "Yeah."

* * *

"Thank you," Sakura said softly, stroking the soft fur of the teddy bear. "You didn't have to—"

"I know I didn't have to. You practically begged me not to. So don't worry about it," Syaoran muttered, walking briskly a few steps ahead of her.

"Oh...okay," Sakura said, looking down at the bear. Another mood swing. Wasn't all of this confusion supposed to be over? They _were_ together, weren't they? If they were, then why was he doing this to her?

"And...you're welcome," Syaoran said, so quickly that Sakura almost didn't catch it.

A smile broke out onto her face, and she ran a little to catch up with him. "So...where are we headed now?"

"Back to the house for awhile, and then there's this place I want to show you later in the evening, probably after dinner."

Sakura nodded, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

Syaoran looked over briefly and hid a smile, slowing down his steps a little. He grinned when he saw her sigh quietly in relief. "So, what are you going to name that bear?"

Sakura looked surprised at the question. "Hm?"

"You said you'd named your other bear when you were younger. So what are you going to name that one?"

She looked down at the bear. "I didn't even think about it, actually. I guess I could name it Kero again...or maybe..." She smiled. "Would it be cheesy if I named it Syaoran?"

He snorted. "Yes, that would be incredibly cheesy."

Sakura frowned. "Well, what else should I name it? I can't name this one Kero, too—it would feel too weird. Come on, it's not _that_ cheesy." She looked at the bear again. She could see herself tying a dark green ribbon around its neck, and suddenly, the name seemed to stick perfectly. "Syaoran," she murmured, tracing her finger around its nose. "I think it works," she said defiantly, looking back up at Syaoran.

He rolled his eyes, but he bit his lip in order not to smile. It was admittedly a _little_ cute that she'd want to name the bear after him. "Okay. But expect me to give you grief about it."

"I wouldn't expect anything less, actually," Sakura said, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"What? Hey, wait a minute," Syaoran responded, frowning. "What's that supposed to mean?" And before he knew it, Sakura had flung a snowball at his face and run away screaming with laughter.

Syaoran wiped the snow off of his face disbelievingly for a moment—where had that come from?—and then he quickly scooped up a snowball and began to chase after her. "Hey, get back here!" he called out, running at full speed to catch up with her.

* * *

Eriol absentmindedly scrubbed at a dinner plate, thinking back to what Yamazaki said. It was true—he didn't _have_ to worry about Tomoyo. In fact, why was he even worrying? If there was nothing he could do, why couldn't he just enjoy what he had: a fun, budding friendship with a particularly extraordinary girl?

_Because I want more, damn it._

Eriol shook his head. He couldn't think like that—that was the kind of thinking that would get him into huge trouble.

"You've been washing that same dish for the last four minutes or so, you know."

Eriol nearly jumped as he heard the voice, and then he turned around to see Tomoyo, who was giggling at his reaction. "How long have you been standing there?" he gasped, feeling adrenaline pump through his veins, both from the surprise and from her presence.

"Well, since whenever you started on that dish. What are you doing, washing dishes? Everyone else is out having fun."

It was true; after dinner, it seemed that everyone had gone off to do something different. The Li sisters had dragged a reluctant Touya off to go Christmas tree shopping, saying that they needed a "big, strong man" to carry the tree back to the cabin; and Yelan, Fujitaka, and Wei had gotten dressed up and left for some annual winter banquet that took place around the resort. Yamazaki was planning to enroll in a snowboarding competition for the day after Christmas, and the registration and meeting was that evening, so he'd left for that. Tomoyo had sent Sakura off with Syaoran earlier in the evening, giggling and making suggestive faces at Sakura all the while; he had come to her earlier and run by her his plans for taking Sakura out that night, and while Syaoran had sworn Tomoyo to secrecy, she couldn't help but try to hint to Sakura at what was going to happen that night.

"You're not," Eriol retorted, but he was grinning. He placed another dish on the rack and moved onto the next one.

Tomoyo shrugged. "I wasn't really up for leaving. Besides, someone has to guard the house."

He raised his hand. "What am I for?"

"Washing dishes," she replied, laughing.

Eriol flicked soap suds at her in response. "I just felt like doing Wei a favor. He hasn't really been able to enjoy himself since he got out here, so I told him I'd do dishes so he could go to that banquet."

Tomoyo raised her eyebrows. _I definitely did not expect that._ "That's really...sweet of you."

"Thanks," Eriol said, grinning. "It's not a big deal, though. It's just a few dishes." He eyed the mountain of dirty dishes sitting on the counter. "Well, maybe more than a few..."

"Here, let me help you," Tomoyo said, and she pulled on an apron and went to stand by him.

Eriol immediately felt his heartbeat go up ever so slightly, and his hands nearly slipped on the dish he was holding. "You really don't have to—"

"Oh, whatever," Tomoyo muttered. "It's not like I have much else to do, anyway."

"Well...thanks."

They washed dishes in silence for awhile, until Tomoyo finally sighed and turned off the faucet. She turned to a confused Eriol, a solemn look on her face. "I have to ask you something."

Eriol quickly recomposed his expression. "Right. Go ahead."

"I..." She stopped and shut her mouth. "Look," she said quietly, "about yesterday...I had a lot of fun. And I don't know what it is about you, but I—I don't know. Maybe I just miss my boyfriend." She looked up, seemed to realize what she was saying, and all of a sudden, her eyes went wide and she started to stammer. "I mean—not that you're not a great guy—"

"Tomoyo."

"—in fact, you're one of the nicest guys I know—"

"Tomoyo."

"—so it's definitely not about you—"

"Tomoyo!"

"—well, okay. Maybe it's a little about you—"

Eriol firmly put his hands on Tomoyo's shoulders. "Tomoyo! What are you even talking about?"

Tomoyo finally stopped talking, looking at Eriol miserably. "Sorry," she said.

Eriol led her over to the dining room and sat her down. "Just start over. And try to be a little more coherent," he joked.

Tomoyo gave a small attempt at a smile, but it faded as she began to talk again. "There's no _real_ easy way to say it."

Eriol made a thoughtful face, and then he nodded. "I can take that. Just tell me the hard way, then."

Tomoyo sighed tiredly. "I think I'm..." She couldn't bring herself to look at him—where had all her confidence gone? "I think I'm in danger of falling for you." She finally looked up at him, only to see a blank expression on his face. "Say something," she begged.

"Um...well...why is this a bad thing?"

"Because I have a _boyfriend_," she cried, shutting her eyes. "I should be worrying about the next time I see him, but here I am instead, thinking about you! And I miss him, I really do, but he hasn't called me in so long...and he didn't...he didn't even see me off at the train station when I moved..." She bit her lip, and when she opened her eyes again, Eriol saw that she had tears in them. "And you're...you're great. You're amazing. I haven't laughed so much as I have with you since I left Tokyo. But I love him. I do."

Eriol looked at her in the eye and said carefully, "I believe you." He was still in too much of a state of shock to know exactly what to feel.

"So...I have a request to make of you," Tomoyo said, resolve coming back into her voice.

"Sure," he replied, not even thinking about what it could be—he just wanted to help her.

"I'm going to try as hard as I can...but you have to help me _not_ fall for you." Tomoyo paused. "I know that sounds really weird and unreasonable. But for now, it's the only thing I can think of. You're perfect, Eriol—you really are—but I'm not the kind of girl who just moves from guy to guy."

_Shit. She's got to be kidding._ Eriol looked at Tomoyo, almost dumbfounded. She was basically asking him to turn down a lottery winning. But then he remembered that—no matter how close he was now—he couldn't have her; she was someone else's. And so he nodded, and he found himself saying, "I must really like you."

Tomoyo smiled and threw her arms around him. "Thank you so much."

"No problem," Eriol said, patting her awkwardly on the back. "But, um...Tomoyo? This kind of defeats the purpose of the entire conversation."

Tomoyo jumped back immediately, laughing. "Right."

"Let's get back to those dishes, shall we?"

* * *

"Here it is," Syaoran said, climbing up the last part of a very steep hill. He offered a hand to Sakura, who was still scrambling up behind him and breathing loudly.

"God," she sighed, getting up onto the hill's peak with him. "If you come up here a lot, no wonder you're so fit." She wiped her forehead—she was actually sweating.

"But look—it's worth the work," Syaoran said, gesturing out in front of them.

Sakura's gaze followed to where he was pointing, and she gasped. Below them was the entire town that rested around the resort, lit up magnificently against the dark blue sky. It looked like the stars had fallen from the sky and landed on the ground. "It's even prettier than the view from your house."

"Yeah. I found this place when I was fourteen. I try to come here at least once every vacation. Eriol and Yamazaki don't know about it, so it's hard to get away from them enough to come here. But I wanted to show you—you liked the view from my yard, so I figured you'd like this one a lot more."

Sakura grinned. "Thank you so much. I really do love it. I wish I had a camera," she said, turning to him. She frowned when she saw that he was watching her with a funny expression on his face. "Is something wrong?"

Syaoran shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot. "I never really cleared anything up with you last night after we kissed. I know it's probably been a confusing day for you, and I'm sorry for that. But...I mean...despite everything that's happened, do you want to go out with me—and I mean it this time—when we go back to Tomoeda?"

Sakura felt her cheeks flush, and all of a sudden, in spite of the cold air and snow around her, she felt a warm rush in the pit of her stomach. "Yes."

Syaoran grinned back at her, and all of a sudden, before Sakura could even catch her breath, he pulled her closer to him by the waist and leaned his forehead against hers. Very slowly—so slowly that she could barely stand it—he leaned in more closely to her until their lips were barely touching, and then he kissed her. Sakura felt herself gasp, but she quickly stifled it and fervently returned the kiss, pulling him closer and shivering when she felt his tongue trace patterns on her lips.

When they pulled away, she felt her knees wobbling, and she almost sheepishly put her head on his shoulder; to her delight, he didn't pull back, but instead wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to him. He smelled like wood smoke and cologne.

"Merry early Christmas," he murmured, and she felt him kiss the top of her head.

This was it. This had to be the most perfect moment of her entire life. Forget that it was tainted by an unresolved issue, something that she knew she wouldn't ever be able to entirely escape from. She'd enjoy what was here and now, and even knowing that she'd probably have to face unbearable consequences in the future could not take anything away from this moment.

"Merry early Christmas, Syaoran."

* * *

That's it for now! This is my longest chapter to date, but it doesn't feel that long at all. Anyway, I know **there was a lot of fluff in this chapter—**a lot even by my standards, really—but don't worry, I'm well aware of how much I was putting in. I'm just trying to **give the characters some kind of romantic respite before all of the conflict sets in for sure. **(Haha, I talk about them like they're real...:() I tried to foreshadow at the end of the chapter, but I kind of suck at it; I was trying to show that, **eventually, Sakura will have to own up to what she's done, whether she's sorry for it or not.** Anyone who's read the first part of chapter one will know that. :D But no worries! It's definite S/S in the end, and I am not one to write tragedies too often. Also, I know **I gave Mai what seems like a complete turnaround in this chapter,** but I have this belief that **everyone, no matter how mean or rude s/he might seem, has some kind of motive behind his/her actions.** That doesn't excuse Mai; she feels bad, sure, but she's **choosing popularity over defending an innocent person**, and as desirable as popularity is, that's never going to be the right thing to do. Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoyed it—I'm trying to be particularly careful about how quickly I move Sakura and Syaoran along and how I develop Tomoyo and Eriol's relationship, so hopefully, it'll all turn out okay in the end! Anyway, enough of my ranting. Thank you so much for reading, and please, please, please review!

Love,  
boreum dal


	12. Two of a Kind

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hey, guys! I think it's appropriate to begin this message with an apology; I feel like it's become tradition. So I'm sorry for not updating in a good few months again... I finally graduated high school. I started writing this story in the eighth grade! That means I definitely need to pick it up, huh? Thanks for the **beautiful reviews** from the previous chapter. They really, really made my day(s). It's so encouraging to hear good things about my writing, because I am trying, and I really would like to write for a living (although I know that's highly improbable—but I guess that's why journalism exists ;D). Anyhow, on with the story! Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!

**Chapter 12: **Two of a Kind

"Syaoran, wake up! It's Christmas!" Yamazaki bounced onto Syaoran's bed for the second time that vacation, knowing he was probably pushing his friend's boundaries a bit but not really caring.

"Yamazaki, I would kill you if I didn't know that my mother would probably ground me for doing it," Syaoran muttered groggily. He looked at his clock from under the pillow and sighed. "Is anyone besides you even awake at this hour? You're up so early that it should be a crime."

"Please, it's only seven in the morning."

"We're on vacation."

"We've been talking for like, thirty seconds. You _must _be too awake to go to sleep now," Yamazaki said, throwing back Syaoran's covers to wake him up more quickly.

"Wrong," Syaoran said angrily, pulling the covers back over himself. "Go wake up someone else."

"They're all awake! And I'm going to set your sisters on you if you don't get up now."

Syaoran sighed, sat up, scratched his head, and looked at Yamazaki with only one eye open. "I'm not going to beat you up 'cause it's Christmas."

Yamazaki grinned. "Everyone's down at breakfast now, so hurry up!" He ran out of the room. Syaoran could hear him shouting something unintelligible to everyone downstairs in excitement.

He lay back down and stared out the window, watching the snow. What an odd last week it had been. He'd never have expected for things to turn out this way. A month ago, he hadn't even known who Sakura was, really. And now, she was all he could think about. And he'd already established that she was different—that she was..._real_, something that was so tough to find—but would he have felt the same if he'd spent the same amount of time doing the same things with another girl?

He got himself out of bed, showered, and dressed himself, and all the while, the question persisted. He couldn't see himself being attracted to anyone else, and even now, he had a tough time acknowledging his attraction to Sakura; but then again, he never really spent that much time with other girls. (And here, he recognized that he lived a truly abnormal life for a sixteen-year-old boy.)

But in the midst of all of these troubled thoughts, he also recognized something that rather answered all of the questions at hand: he may very well have felt something similar had he been in the same situation with another girl, but he didn't care. He didn't _want_ to feel the same with another girl; this was enough.

She was enough.

And with that, he put the questions out of his mind for good, and he walked downstairs to eat breakfast.

* * *

The eventfulness of this Christmas amused Eriol. At the typically more peaceful (or, rather, as peaceful as it could get with the Li women around) Li family holiday vacations, love—both requited and unrequited—had never been much of an issue at the breakfast table. But now, it held everyone, or all the young people, anyway, in a death grip.

All morning, he had eyed Syaoran making thoughtful, questioning glances at Sakura, who looked back at him with mingled confusion and pleasure on her face. Tomoyo, who typically would have focused on this aspect even more than Eriol did, was uncharacteristically quiet; whenever Eriol caught her looking at him across the table, she quickly looked away as though she'd never been looking at him in the first place. And last but not least, Feimei added a sense of hilarity to the whole situation as she made suggestive glances—as well as a few suggestive remarks—at a clearly intimidated Touya.

And while Fujitaka remained silent and pleasant amidst all of this, Yelan raised her eyebrow more than once. She might have been older, but she knew when her children were acting abnormally. Something was different.

"Well, if everyone is done here, we should proceed to the living room, shouldn't we?" she said, clasping her hands together in a grand gesture. She chose to ignore the feeling for the moment.

Everyone followed Yelan into the living room, where the glowing Christmas tree overshadowed the dozens of packages beneath it. Complete with a fire going in the background, the room looked like something out of a Christmas card to Sakura, who was used to sharing less traditional, less lavish Christmases with just her brother and father.

While everyone else headed over to the tree to open gifts, Syaoran led a bewildered Sakura over to the sofa and sat her down.

"Syaoran, you didn't get me anything, did you?" Sakura said quietly as he settled himself beside her. "You already got me that teddy bear—"

"That teddy bear's name is Syaoran, thank you very much," he said, smirking. "And yeah, I did." He produced from his pocket a small velvet box topped with a golden ribbon. "For you."

Sakura's shoulders sagged. "Wow, you definitely outdid me," she murmured. "I only got you one thing, and it's not even that much—"

"It doesn't matter."

She looked at him more carefully. He was glowing! She didn't think she'd ever seen him so happy before. _What a different person you've become, Syaoran Li._

"Open it," he said.

Sakura grinned back at him, and she opened the box. Inside was a gold bracelet, unadorned save for a single charm hanging off of it: a gleaming miniature chocolate kiss. Sakura laughed, looking up at Syaoran. "I don't even know what to say... It's beautiful. And a very cute idea," she added as an afterthought.

Syaoran grinned, looking uncharacteristically proud of himself. "It's a charm bracelet. Whenever there's an occasion, you'll get another charm. And you can get yourself charms, of course. But I have to approve of them," he said jokingly.

Sakura put down the box and smiled. "Thank you." She pursed her lips for a moment, and then she told Syaoran to wait at the sofa for a moment. She ran to the tree, where Sakura's father held an expensive-looking maroon button-down shirt against himself as the Lis oohed and ahed. Judging by the pleased look on Yelan's face, Sakura could tell that it was from her. Smiling, she picked up the large box she'd placed for Syaoran the day before and snuck back over to the sofa with it in hand.

"Here," she said, putting it in his lap. "I hope you like it."

"This is heavy," he said, surprised. He grinned. "You didn't get me a box of coal, did you?"

Sakura giggled. "No! I worked very hard to pick out this gift, thank you very much. And it took a month's worth of paper route money."

Syaoran laughed at the almost childish innocence of the statement. "Well, thanks."

"You can't say thanks yet! You have to open it first," Sakura said, nervous for his reaction. She was scared that he would not like it and, in pure Syaoran fashion, vocalize how much he disliked it. The last few days' interaction had spoiled her; she'd lost her armor against his crueler side.

He opened the box and pulled out a wooden case. "Er...what is it?" He asked, turning it in his hands. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a...nicely lacquered box—"

Sakura laughed and reached over to unlatch the box. "You're supposed to look inside it." She pulled open the lid to reveal a sampler kit of professional artist's materials—pencils, colored pencils, brushes, several tubes of paint, and erasers. "You told me that you liked to draw...and that drawing you gave me was so good, I figured that you could use some materials. Although I'm sure you _have_ plenty of good materials as it is," she said, frowning. This was a new thought. "Great. I didn't even think of that when I bought it. I'm so stupid—"

Syaoran sighed. "You never shut up, do you? I _like _it, you dummy." He looked down at the box, a peculiar expression on his face. "No one's really ever gotten me stuff like this before. You know, to support my drawing." He flicked his eyes up at her for a moment, and then he quickly looked away again. "It was really thoughtful. Really."

And while the reaction would have seemed insincere coming from anyone else, Sakura knew better—she had genuinely touched him, and that was all she needed. Hesitantly, she drew a hand out toward his face, her heart thumping faster as she got closer—she'd never initiated any of the touching or kissing between them before. And when her hand finally reached his face to stroke his cheek, she felt as though her heart would explode, too weak to handle the immense rush in her stomach. Technically, he was her boyfriend now, right? So why couldn't she find the nerve to kiss him?

_Probably because I'm barely brave enough to touch him,_ she thought wryly.

But Syaoran's touch interrupted her thoughts; his hand had grabbed hers, his eyes, smiling once again, locked on her own—and before she could even decide what to do—

"Hands off, pervert!"

The two quickly broke away at the sound of Touya's voice, Syaoran muttering things all the while. They looked up at him as he thundered over, a ridiculous expression of fury and awe on his face.

Sakura rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Touya, really? His hands weren't going anywhere!"

"Yeah, well, take it from someone who knows—those hands go _somewhere_ if you continue what you were just doing."

Sakura and Syaoran instantly turned red.

"You're so rude!" Sakura stood up and put her hands on her hips. "We weren't doing anything wrong. Now go back to your gifts!" And to Touya's surprise and Syaoran's great amusement, Sakura pushed her shocked older brother across the wooden floor back to the tree, his socked feet sliding along. Feimei was holding a beautiful pendant in her hands and gratefully giving Tomoyo a hug as he returned.

"You can't tell me _I'm_ different around my family when you turn into that around your brother," Syaoran laughed as Sakura returned to the sofa.

Sakura smiled. "Yeah, well...the way I am around him and the way I am around you now—they're not very different anymore, don't you think?"

Syaoran thought for a moment, and then he nodded, surprised. "I take it to mean that you're comfortable with me?"

Sakura nodded, blushing. Before she could say anything else, they were interrupted yet again, this time by Tomoyo, who'd rushed over with a camera upon hearing Touya's grumbling about his disgust at his "sister with that idiot."

"Tomoyo, no pictures!" Sakura held her hands up over her face.

Tomoyo frowned. "Why not? You guys are sickeningly cute," she laughed. "Just one picture. For memories? Please?"

"Oh, fine," Sakura said, putting down her hands and sighing. She looked over at Syaoran. "Do you mind?"

Syaoran shrugged, indifferent.

"Okay, on three! One, two—oh, you guys, come _on_." Tomoyo put down the camera and made a face: she was about to take what was likely the most awkward picture in history.

Sakura sat timidly, her hands on her lap and a half-smile on her face, while Syaoran's arms were crossed, his face entirely unsmiling.

"You have to get more...I don't know, intimate!"

Sakura groaned. "Tomoyo, can't you just take the picture?"

"I might as well not if you're gonna look like that...here." Tomoyo walked up to the couple and, with surprising force, untangled Syaoran's arms, put one around Sakura's shoulder, and pushed Sakura closer to Syaoran.

"Smile," she ordered Syaoran, who glared back but begrudgingly complied.

She stepped back and looked through her camera lens once more, satisfied with her work: they looked much more comfortable. "All right, now smile like you mean it!"

The flashbulb went off, capturing two smiles, neither of which, to be quite honest, were all that forced.

* * *

"Otou-san, I'm going for a walk with Syaoran!" Sakura called as she headed out the door. She ran to catch up with Syaoran, who'd already started walking. "Hey, wait up! I'll be getting enough exercise when we get there. I can't believe you're going to put me through hard labor again," she grumbled half-jokingly.

Syaoran snorted. "Hard labor? Sakura, it's just a little hill."

"It is _more_ than just a hill, thank you very much. It's like three extremely steep hills in one."

"Okay, then do you just not wanna go?" Syaoran said, stopping.

"No, no! I didn't mean it like that." Sakura quickly continued walking. "C'mon, what are you waiting for?"

Syaoran laughed to himself and caught up with Sakura in three long strides.

They were heading back to the hilltop to get their last glimpse of the resort at night—the days had flown by since Christmas, and they would be returning to Tomoeda the next day.

"I can't believe we're going home," Sakura said, taking in a deep breath of air. "It feels like we just got here."

Syaoran shrugged. "I guess."

Sakura looked over and made a face. "Maybe it's just me, huh?"

He shrugged again. "It just means you enjoyed yourself a lot here. There's no problem with that. I enjoyed myself, too."

Sakura smiled to herself. "That was a nice response."

He glanced over at her, his lips pursed. She walked with her head down, her hands shoved in her pockets, much like Syaoran. _Even after everything, she looks so timid,_ he thought to himself. It wasn't irritating anymore, though; now that he knew Sakura for who she was—a lively girl when she was comfortable, really—he paid no mind to her shy persona. He reached over, and gently, he pulled her hand out of her pocket and held it in his own, looking forward all the while.

Sakura's eyes widened as she glanced down at their hands, and she mentally chastised herself for acting so surprised over something so minimal. She figured she would get used to it soon enough; it felt rather natural, actually. She sighed. _How can it feel natural when it's not even supposed to happen, though? _She might have been off the hook, but returning to Tomoeda meant finally confessing to Syaoran what had really compelled her to ask him out. She shuddered at the thought. She was so ill-prepared for his anger; a few days without it had completely thrown her off guard.

"Are you cold?"

"What?" Sakura raised her head suddenly, surprised by the intrusion.

"You're shivering. Here," Syaoran said, and he let go of her hand and pulled her closer to him by her waist.

"Syaoran, what—"

"Do you always have to protest everything?" He put his arm around her, and almost instantly, Sakura found herself settled into him. He smirked. "Tell me that doesn't feel better."

Sakura scoffed, but reluctantly, she moved even closer to him. "I didn't realize how cold I was."

Syaoran grinned. "Well, you'll warm up when you start climbing. Look where we are." He raised his chin toward the massive hill before them.

"Augh," Sakura moaned, slumping over dramatically. "Once was enough...but all right, let's get going." She started up the hill with vigor, hoping that if she acted like climbing it wasn't very hard, it wouldn't be.

"I appreciate the sudden enthusiasm," Syaoran said, chuckling as he almost effortlessly passed Sakura.

"I recall this being a little easier the first time," she muttered back. "You're lucky I think this is worth it."

"Oh, lucky, am I? What would you do? Wheeze at me?"

"Hey!" Sakura stumbled as she tried to chase Syaoran in vain—he was already several steps ahead of her, and she could barely walk up the snowy hill, let alone run. Syaoran laughed as he evaded her grasp.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be making fun of you. Anyway, we're almost there." He held out a hand to Sakura, who gratefully accepted it.

As they climbed the last of the hill together, Sakura exhaled loudly and examined the lovely scene before her: a village beneath the stars and an uncannily precious person standing beside her.

_Oh, it was definitely worth it._

* * *

"Er...Tomoyo, look. I know you asked me to help you out and all, but you're seriously testing my willpower here."

All day, Tomoyo had been making faces to herself and pacing back and forth, and finally, Eriol had sat her down and asked her what was wrong. Of course, in keeping with his promise, he'd maintained his distance—he'd sat her in a chair, and he himself had sat a few feet away on the windowsill. He'd chosen to ignore that she had generally avoided him for a few days now, ever since their conversation in the kitchen. And after only the briefest silence, Tomoyo had cracked: her boyfriend had not called her at all since she had moved to Tomoeda; when she had tried to call him, he'd never picked up. And finally, she'd come to the conclusion that she should probably break up with him—even if it was through a voicemail—but she could not muster up the guts to do it. Almost thoughtlessly, she'd asked Eriol to help her decide, and it had taken all of Eriol's will to avoid jumping to an immediate "yes."

"I just need some guidance, that's all! It's really nothing," Tomoyo responded, her voice a little too high.

"You're asking me to help you decide whether or not you should give your asshole boyfriend what he deserves. Hmm," Eriol said sarcastically, "what a tough decision."

Tomoyo stared down at the phone in her hand, feeling silly and cruel. "You're right...I'm sorry."

Eriol sighed. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh. It's just hard, because to be perfectly honest with you, it both kills me and stuns me that the guy lucky enough to have you is completely neglecting you."

"You can't say things like that! You don't even realize—" Tomoyo stopped.

"Realize what?"

Silence.

Eriol went up to her, kneeling so that his face was level with hers. "Tomoyo, realize what?"

Tomoyo looked at him with glassy eyes. "You don't realize the effect you have on me."

Eriol stared back, dumbfounded. _The effect I have on her? _While he was well aware of the possibility that she could develop feelings for him—she'd admitted that possibility herself—he didn't realize how close she was to fulfilling that possibility. _That damn promise. _Things were only going to be harder now; for now that he knew how much of a chance he had, he wanted her that much more.

The tears in Tomoyo's eyes spilled over as she watched his expression. "I'm so sorry, Eriol."

And although he knew that it was against everything he'd promised and against what Tomoyo seemed to want, he found himself reaching out slowly to touch that porcelain face of hers, to wipe away the tears that her bastard of a boyfriend wasn't here to wipe away—

_RRRRIIIIING. _

Tomoyo and Eriol both jumped at the loud, sudden noise, and Tomoyo stared down at her phone, which vibrated and rang violently in her lap.

"Shit, that scared me," Eriol muttered.

"Eriol," Tomoyo gasped.

"What?" He frowned at the scandalized look on her face.

"It's Ken."

Eriol laughed, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "What great timing." He stood up and dusted himself off. One of his knees cracked from being in a kneeling position for so long. "I'll leave you alone. You enjoy yourself," he said politely—distantly—and he began to walk out of the room.

"Eriol, wait—"

The phone continued to ring.

Eriol only looked behind him for a moment. "Aren't you going to pick it up? It's what you wanted."

Tomoyo bit her lip, staring at the lit-up phone, and then she picked it up and opened it. "I'm sorry," she whispered to Eriol, her eyes miserable. "Hello?" she said into the phone.

Eriol walked out of the room and leaned against the door. "Yeah," he sighed. _What was I thinking? I almost felt like she was mine._

* * *

"Oh, look at that one!" Sakura pointed to a particularly large, bright star above them.

"Wow, how did we not see that one before? Are you sure I didn't already point it out?" Syaoran said, grinning as Sakura made a face at him.

She elbowed him playfully. "Quit trying to steal my stars."

They were lying on top of an insulated blanket that Syaoran had brought with him, their hoods up, shoulder to shoulder. At first, they'd merely lay there in a (for once) comfortable silence, but Sakura had pointed out certain stars she knew and one that she recognized as a planet, which had started a game of star searching. It wasn't the most exciting way to spend their last night in peace, Syaoran had thought, but it was nice, all the same.

Sakura breathed on her hands and placed them beneath her hood on her ears.

Syaoran looked at her and laughed at the uncanny action. "What are you doing?"

"My ears are cold," she admitted sheepishly. "I couldn't think of a way to warm them up."

"Huh." Syaoran had a beanie in the pocket of his jacket—he carried one around for when he wanted to go snowboarding—but he didn't quite know how to give it to Sakura. Even after everything, it was hard to adjust to being so nice to someone who wasn't a family member...or Yamazaki or Eriol. But he had given her that bracelet Christmas morning with such ease. _Maybe she's right. Maybe I _am _bipolar,_ he thought. He shook his head. _This is ridiculous. _He sat up; Sakura followed his movement.

"Something the matter?" she asked, frowning.

"Here," Syaoran muttered, pushing her hood back. "This will probably help." He pulled the beanie out of his pocket and pulled it over her head until it fit snugly.

Sakura put her hands on the beanie, looking surprised. "Ah...thanks," she said. "It does... Help, I mean." She smiled sheepishly.

He'd never really cared so much about her appearance before, but this was one of those moments when he thought she looked particularly...cute. He turned away before she could see him flush. "It's nothing," he mumbled.

Another long silence passed, this one not quite as comfortable—at least to Syaoran—as the last.

"Thanks for bringing me out here," Sakura said beside him. "It's probably been one of the best weeks of my life."

"Yeah, well... After putting up with me for so long, you deserve it."

Sakura scoffed. "You weren't _that_ bad." _I probably deserve a lot worse, actually._

"Look, I'm no genius with girls—I mean, you're my first, for crying out loud—but I'll admit that sometimes, I was a little...harsh." Syaoran looked out at the town lights, which were gradually going out one by one.

"Syaoran..."

"It's getting late. We should head back." He stood up and held out a hand to help Sakura up.

"Wait," she said, stepping in front of him. She looked up at him, almost too solemn, Syaoran thought, and sighed.

"What is it?"

She looked at the ground again—she was nervous.

Syaoran frowned. "What's the matter?"

Sakura shook her head. "Nothing. I'm just being silly," she said, smiling. She grabbed his hand in her hurry, surprising herself. "Let's go!"

* * *

Sakura could not sleep. She kept reliving the last week in fast forward in her head, and she almost couldn't fathom how different it was going to be when she returned home. Because even if she didn't have the burden of keeping up her facade, how would she handle all the pressure of being Syaoran's girlfriend? She liked hanging out with Eriol and Yamazaki—and Syaoran, of course—but they were so different from the people they hung around. And those people, they all hated her anyway; why would it be any different if she dated Syaoran?

She buried her face into her pillow. But that was a minimal worry compared to how she felt about the bet. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she continued this without telling Syaoran. She'd rather have had him get angry with her for what her honesty revealed than to have him like her for her lies.

She wished she could forget about it and just go to sleep. But ironically enough, the only thing—or person—that could probably help her forget about it for awhile was across the hall. She sat up. _I'm not really going to...am I? _Biting her lip, Sakura looked at her door. _Well, why not? I'm his girlfriend...for now. _And with that, she got out of bed and tiptoed out her room and across the hallway.

She opened Syaoran's door slowly, hoping not to wake him if he was asleep. Her footfalls seemed louder than usual in the dead quiet, and she peered over at the bed from just beyond the door to prevent herself from making more noise.

His eyes were closed; it seemed he was indeed asleep. Sakura quietly let out the breath of air she'd been holding and turned around to leave. It had been silly, she thought, to even come here in the first place. She wasn't a baby anymore; she didn't _need _someone else to help her sleep.

_It would have been nice, though._

"Sakura?"

_Crap. Did I wake him up?_ Sakura turned around slowly. "Did I wake you?"

Syaoran sat up among the mass of entangled sheets, yawning. "Well, there's no point in asking that if I'm awake, right? I'm a light sleeper. What are you doing here?"

Sakura shook her head. "Nothing. I was just seeing if you were asleep."

"Well, that's not creepy," Syaoran said, snorting.

Sakura looked at her feet. "Sorry. I know it's a little weird."

Syaoran frowned. "Hey, I was just kidding. You've been acting kind of funny, you know. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just—I couldn't sleep, that's all. If you were still awake, I was going to see if I could just hang out with you till I got tired. But I'm just gonna head back to my room now," Sakura said, motioning her head back toward her doorway, embarrassed.

"Well, I'm awake," he said, "and that means you want to hang out, right?"

"It's fine, really. I was just being dumb—"

"Oh, shut up. Would you just come over here?"

Sakura looked up, surprised. She bit her lip for a moment, and then she shuffled over to his bed and climbed in next to him.

Syaoran lay back down, although he wasn't quite as relaxed as before. "So, what's up?" he said softly, looking at her.

Sakura looked back, wondering if this was a good idea after all. How was she supposed to fall asleep if her heart wouldn't stop pounding? "Uh...I was just a little lonely, that's all," she murmured.

Syaoran scoffed. "Well, there's a cure for that—most people are usually asleep by this time."

"I know. I don't know what's the matter with me. I guess I just don't wanna go home."

"Well, to be honest, I guess I don't, either. You know people are going to start talking when we start school again." He raised his eyebrows. "You think you can handle it?"

Sakura nodded. "I think so."

Syaoran pursed his lips, examining her expression by the light streaming through his window. She didn't _look_ like she thought she could handle it; she looked like she was worried.

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

"Hey, what—are you sure this is okay? What if our parents see us?"

"So what if they do? We're fully clothed," he said, rolling his eyes.

"My brother?"

"My sisters will take care of it," Syaoran grinned.

Sakura smiled. "Well, I guess..."

"Will this help you sleep?"

Sakura looked down at her chest. Her heart would calm down eventually, right? "I think so."

"Okay," Syaoran said, yawning and settling in. "Let's go to sleep, then."

Sakura looked over at him, and before she could stop herself, she kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks," she murmured.

She saw Syaoran's eyes go wide for a moment, but he didn't look at her. "'Night, Sakura." He closed his eyes.

"Good night," she said.

A few minutes passed, but Sakura still couldn't fall asleep.

"Syaoran?" she whispered.

"Hm?"

"In case anything happens when we get back...I really enjoyed these last few weeks with you. You really are a great guy. I'm lucky to have gotten to know you."

"Mm," Syaoran murmured back, clearly half-asleep.

Sakura settled closer into his arms and closed her eyes, finally able to drift off.

* * *

Sakura awoke to too-bright morning sunlight streaming through the window, and briefly, she forgot where she was. She was confused—the sun didn't rise on her side of the house...

"Whoa," she whispered to herself as she looked around. She'd forgotten that she'd fallen asleep in Syaoran's room. She thought back to the night before and blushed. Syaoran was, in an ironic and hilarious revelation, a hugger. He'd held her almost too tightly in his sleep all night. Looking beside her, she saw that Syaoran was gone; she frowned. _I wonder where he is._

And almost as if he could hear her thoughts, Syaoran burst into the room, a wet mass of snow and chestnut hair and dark green jacket. "Oh, hey, you're awake," he said. "Yamazaki came in and woke me up early so we could go snowboarding one last time."

"Oh. Was it fun?"

Syaoran grinned. "A great way to end vacation."

Sakura smiled back. It was nice to see him so happy. _What a change a few weeks can make,_ she thought. "Thanks for letting me stay here last night."

Syaoran shrugged. "It would have been pretty heartless of me to kick you out. It's no big deal."

"Well, I'd better go pack... I'm surprised my brother hasn't burst in here yet," she muttered. "When do we leave?"

"In about two hours."

Sakura nodded. "See you then," she said, heading out the door. _For a couple of kids, we sure are good at acting like nothing happened._

* * *

Tomoyo watched the scenery fly by her window. What a trip it had been; she'd gotten so much more than she'd expected out of it.

After Eriol had left the night before, Tomoyo had had an hours-long conversation with Ken in which she had argued, cried, and subsequently given in once again. Of course he had apologized; he'd apologized profusely, and then he'd said he was busy and that he'd had a lot on his mind, but that he'd never stopped thinking about her.

"_If you really thought about me, you couldn't take two seconds out of your busy schedule to call me—or at least to answer my fucking phone calls?" Tomoyo shrieked into the phone._

"_Baby, calm down! I said I was sorry—_"

"_You _are_ sorry! You're a sorry excuse for a boyfriend, and I don't know _why_ I put up with your shit—_"

"_Tomoyo, Tomoyo, shh. I'll make it up to you."_

"_How, Ken? How the hell are you going to make up _two fucking weeks _of completely ignoring me? This had better be good."_

"_I'm coming for New Year's Eve."_

_Tomoyo sighed. "I'm not even sure if I want that, Ken."_

"_Why not? Don't you want to see me?"_

"_I mean, of course I do—you know I do—but so much has happened since I moved..."_

"_Baby, it's been two weeks. We've been dating for two years. What could possibly have happened in such a small fraction of the time we've been together that you don't want to see me?"_

_Tomoyo bit her lip. "Yeah...yeah, you're right. Um...well, I'll call you about directions to get to my house soon."_

"_All right. I can't wait to see you. I missed you. These last two weeks have been complete hell without you, you know."_

_Tomoyo smiled. "Yeah, me, too."_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you, too," Tomoyo said into the phone, although she wasn't quite sure how much she meant it at the moment. _

Technically, Ken had been right—they'd been dating for so long that, really, two weeks shouldn't have mattered at all, but Tomoyo hadn't been lying when she'd said a lot had happened. Tomoeda had been her chance to start over, to fall in with a better crowd—people who really cared about her and not whom she was dating—and she felt that she had started it out perfectly. Who was Ken to come and ruin all of that for her?

And of course, one of those people who cared about her was Eriol. How could she tell Ken that everything was the same when, in the time he'd neglected her, Eriol had been the person she'd leaned on continuously?

What killed her was that, although the whole situation was unfair to Tomoyo, it was even more unfair to Eriol. He deserved so much better.

She laughed to herself. She and Sakura were truly two of a kind.

* * *

"Eriol, I'm gonna head inside," Yamazaki said, looking rather antsy. He'd been relatively...gone these last few days, Eriol thought, and when he was around, he looked both nervous and excited. He felt the urge to follow Yamazaki inside, but he caught Tomoyo's eye and nodded. He'd figure it out soon enough; he and Yamazaki were spending the night at Syaoran's, and Yamazaki—known for having a big mouth—would probably spill it out as soon as the three of them were in the same room together.

"So I take it you had a good trip?" Eriol said, walking up to Tomoyo.

She smiled pleasantly. "Yeah, I did. Thank Syaoran again for me, would you?"

Eriol nodded. "Of course. So what's your plan for tonight?"

"Hmm...I think I'm spending the night at Sakura's," Tomoyo said. "After a week of company, I don't really feel like being alone."

"Yeah, I understand."

The two stood awkwardly, toeing the ground and looking anywhere but at each other.

Tomoyo finally sighed and broke the silence. "I'm really sorry about last night."

Eriol smiled kindly. "Me, too. I shouldn't have acted the way I did."

"But...I have even more to be sorry about," Tomoyo mumbled, shame in her eyes.

He frowned. "What could you possibly have to be sorry about?"

"Ken—Ken sort of invited himself to spend New Year's with me, and so he'll be here in a few days."

Eriol raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Wow. Two weeks of no contact and all of a sudden, he wants to be boyfriend of the year?"

Tomoyo smiled apologetically. "I know, I know. But we've been dating for such a long time...I just thought I'd give him a chance, that's all."

Eriol nodded. "I understand."

Tomoyo gave him a hug. "Thank you," she mumbled. "You're such a good guy."

Eriol hugged her back—probably more tightly than he should have—and nodded her goodbye. "I'll see you around."

* * *

"Well, I guess I'll see you on New Year's Eve," Sakura mumbled, standing with Syaoran as everyone else scrambled around to say goodbye to each other.

Syaoran laughed. "When have you ever said you'll see me on one particular day and then not somehow run into me before that?"

Sakura smiled. "I guess that's true."

Syaoran looked down at her, wondering briefly how real this was going to be; it certainly felt _un_real, as he'd never been through anything like this before. They would return to school on Thursday, the day after the New Year began. Sakura had said she was ready for the reaction that they would get at school; Syaoran wasn't so sure that he was ready. He felt as though their time as a couple unscathed had officially come to an end once they'd stepped out of that bed that morning, and now they had to prepare themselves for something particularly tough.

He pulled her to him and hugged her tightly, taking her by surprise once more. "I didn't want to admit it while I was there," he whispered into her hair, "but I had a lot more fun this last week with you than I've had since I was a kid." He kissed her atop her head and let her go. "I'll see you whenever," he said, smiling.

Stunned and dazed, Sakura watched him head into his house.

* * *

"I'm gonna miss not having you around every night," Sakura admitted as she sat in her bed.

"Yeah, I'll miss this, too," Tomoyo responded, passing a bowl of candy to Sakura. "But it's not like I can't come over."

"I know. But it sure was nice having a relationship therapist around 24/7," Sakura laughed.

"Well, you have a special hotline where you can reach me any time." Tomoyo held up her cell phone. "I'm always willing to help you out."

"Thanks, Tomoyo."

"No problem. So tell me all about last night!"

"Only if you tell me all about your entire week," Sakura said, laughing.

"Deal. You go first."

* * *

Syaoran had been wrong—for once, Sakura had truly managed to fulfill her promise of not seeing him until she said she'd see him; but for once, Sakura wished she'd run into him on accident. She'd even wandered around town aimlessly, hoping to run into him to no avail.

Because for once, she missed him.

Granted, they'd talked on the phone a few times, but it wasn't the same; and with a confession like the one Sakura wanted to make, she knew that it was best to do it face to face. But she knew that New Year's Eve was quite possibly the worst night to go through with it. And so she'd decided that it would become her most important of New Year's resolutions; she would tell him on Thursday after school, and she wouldn't put it off any longer.

And just as her resolve had set, her phone rang. She picked it up to hear Syaoran's voice on the other line; her heart leapt. It had been days since he'd officially asked her out and two weeks since they'd ever started acting like a couple, and she still felt incredible excitement and nervousness whenever he made any form of contact with her.

_I'm so pathetic._

"Sakura? You there?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

"I'm leaving my house now."

"Okay, I'll be outside."

Sakura hung up the phone and headed out the door, telling her father where she'd be on the way. She, Syaoran, Eriol, Yamazaki, and Tomoyo were meeting at Syaoran's house to watch a large fireworks display over Tomoeda from the hill in his backyard. Tomoyo was leaving early, she'd said, to meet her boyfriend at the train station.

A year ago, she'd spent her New Year's Eve with just her father; Touya had gone to a party with his best friend, Yukito. It hadn't necessarily been disappointing, but she'd felt bad for both her father and herself—for her father because he had no people his own age, let alone a wife, to spend his holidays with; and for herself because _she_ had no people her own age to spend her holidays with.

_Things are so different now, _she thought. _All in the course of a few weeks..._ She wondered how different it'd be after she told Syaoran the truth. Would he even look at her anymore? Would Yamazaki and Eriol still talk to her?

At least she knew she wouldn't lose Tomoyo.

She sighed, a puff of air appearing before her as she did so. She took her hands out of her pockets and adjusted the beanie on her head.

"_You can have it," Syaoran said as they walked back into the lodge._

"_Are you sure? What about you?" Sakura asked, holding the beanie out to him._

"_I have plenty. Besides, I can always steal one from Yamazaki if I run out."_

"_But I—"_

_Syaoran sighed and stopped walking. "I'm pretty sure this is the third time tonight I've had to tell you to stop protesting and just accept whatever I'm giving you." He took the beanie out of her hands and put it back on her head. "It looks better on you anyway," he said, smirking. "Good night," he called as he headed up the stairs to his room. _

_Sakura stood in the hallway of the lodge, her face flushed and her ears quite warm enough without the beanie._

Syaoran's car pulled up, and Sakura eagerly ran to the door and climbed in.

Syaoran rolled his eyes, but he smiled at her excitement. "Good to see you, too."

Sakura smiled. "This is the first time I've spent the holidays with anyone my age," she said.

He frowned at that. He'd forgotten how lonely her life had been.

"So, what kind of fireworks are we talking about here?" Sakura asked as Syaoran drove them toward his house.

* * *

"Sakura, good to see you," Eriol said, greeting her warmly.

"You, too," she said, smiling back.

"Sakura!" Yamazaki ran up and gave her a huge hug, nearly toppling her back into Syaoran, who was standing behind her.

Sakura laughed. "Hey," she said, not quite sure how to react.

"You get used to it after awhile," Syaoran said dryly. "He's like the dog I never had, really."

Yamazaki grinned. "So, who are we missing?"

"Tomoyo's not here yet," Sakura said, taking off her coat.

Syaoran slid the coat back onto her shoulders. "We're going outside in a moment, so you should keep that on if you don't want to catch a cold."

And right on cue, Wei walked in. "Master Li, you had several guests waiting outside," he said, bowing, and he left the room.

"Several?" Syaoran asked, his brow furrowed.

Tomoyo appeared with a tall boy with caramel-colored hair, looking everywhere except at Eriol. "Sorry for bringing someone else on short notice," Tomoyo said to Syaoran. "This is Ken, my boyfriend."

"Er...it's fine," Syaoran said, glancing briefly at Eriol, who looked as though he'd swallowed something particularly painful. "Nice to meet you," he said, holding out a hand to Ken, who nodded and shook it.

"Nice to meet you, too."

Before Tomoyo could introduce Ken to everyone else, Syaoran spoke up. "Tomoyo? Wei said something about 'several' guests?"

"Oh, yeah, I did happen to see—_"_

Meiling walked in at that moment, Chiharu not far behind her.

"Ch-Chiharu?" Yamazaki said, dumbfounded.

"Yamazaki!" Chiharu looked scandalized.

"_What_ is going on here?" Syaoran said looking thoroughly confused.

_Well, this should be interesting,_ Sakura thought wryly. _What a night this is going to be._

* * *

That's the end of chapter twelve! Thanks so much for reading. It's a bit less eventful than the usual chapters, but a lot more is sure to happen in the next chapter! **So...I guess I lied about last chapter being the last fluffy one for awhile.** I can guarantee that this one is the last one before all the conflict settles in; forgive me, I couldn't help myself. But I guess fluff isn't as much fun to write unless the characters earn it. (Once again, I'm talking about them like they're real... When will I grow out of this?) **Also, I'm not quite sure now, but a few years ago, one of my Japanese teachers told me that Christmas in Japan isn't a big deal at all. I know this chapter doesn't exactly follow that, so please excuse the creative liberties I've taken here. :P**Anyway, thank you again for reading, and please review! Love you guys.

-boreum dal


	13. Unraveling

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hey, everyone! Aren't you proud of me? I'm updating within a month! :D Life is gooood, haha. Thanks, everyone, for all your wonderful reviews from the last chapter. I always love hearing about what you liked, didn't like, would like to see more of, etcetera—and truth be told, I get a lot of inspiration from the ideas you guys suggest. So YOU are helping me write this story! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please read and review!

**Chapter 13: **Unraveling

"Well, well, it looks like we've already got a party going on here," Meiling said, looking around and smirking. She turned to see Chiharu staring at Yamazaki, who was staring back with a matching expression of surprise and confusion. "Don't gawk," she hissed at her friend.

"Oh, right." Chiharu straightened up and looked away.

While the others focused on Meiling, Sakura had looked over at Yamazaki and noticed his hurt expression as Chiharu broke his gaze. _I wonder what that's about._

"Meiling, I shouldn't have to ask you more than once what you're doing in my house," Syaoran said, his eyes cold.

"Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch, Syaoran. It's not like I _want_ to be here with your little geek squad. Did your mother not explain to you that she's contemplating a business deal with my father's company? He came to meet her personally tonight and he dragged me along. Chiharu was spending the night at my house, so she came with us."

Chiharu looked apologetic, but she didn't say anything.

Syaoran looked severely annoyed, but he figured there was already too much going on to protest: Eriol was glaring at a window, trying very hard not to look at an exasperated-looking Tomoyo and her bemused boyfriend; Yamazaki—who would eventually have to explain himself, Syaoran concluded—was trying to get Chiharu's attention; and Sakura stood in the middle of everything, confused and looking, for whatever reason, very slightly panicked.

Meiling walked around the ballroom, looking around at the ceiling and out the windows with an appreciative look in her eyes, although Syaoran saw a world's difference in the way _she_ looked at his house and the way Sakura had first looked at his house. Meiling seemed to appreciate the richness and wealth shining through the interior, while Sakura had been amazed by the aesthetic grandeur. He scowled. He didn't want these girls—who were strangers to him, for all intents and purposes—in his home.

"This is a nice place you have, Syaoran."

"Thanks," he growled. He stepped closer to Sakura and grabbed her hand. For some reason, he felt as though he had to be prepared to defend her.

"I'll be fine," Sakura whispered, noting the tension in his shoulders.

Meiling turned around at the sound of the voice, and she seemed to notice Sakura standing there for the first time. "Kinomoto," she said, a familiarly malicious grin pulling at her lips. At her best, she was like a clone of Mai at _her_ worst. "I didn't think you'd be here."

Sakura said nothing; she found herself looking at her shoes. She felt Syaoran squeeze her hand gently, and she felt grateful for his presence.

"And what's this?" Meiling said, walking over as her eyes zeroed in on Sakura's hand interlaced with Syaoran's. "Someone hooked up over vacation, I see," she said, her grin growing wider.

Sakura felt her face go red. "It's none of your business."

"Oh, but it _is_ my business, Kinomoto. And you know that all too well."

Syaoran stared at Meiling in confusion, and the he looked at Sakura. "What's she talking about?"

Tomoyo, who, despite her own dilemma, had been watching this entire scene, broke in before anything more could be said. "Hey, I think the fireworks are going to start soon," she said. "Why don't we head outside?" She could practically see the vapors of relief as she broke the tension. She caught Sakura's grateful gaze and nodded.

"Right," Syaoran said, although he didn't feel like going outside. He felt like kicking Meiling out and _then_ going outside. But if his mother's business deal was on the line, he knew he couldn't risk anything. He let go of Sakura's hand and stalked to the doors.

As everyone followed, Meiling trailed by Sakura and pulled her aside, the grin still on her face. "Good job, Kinomoto. I didn't know you were such a good liar."

"Meiling, please, don't. I told Mai that it's off already."

"Oh, I know. I know everything. Sweet little Sakura Kinomoto, falling head over heels for the school's most wanted bachelor, selflessly forfeiting our little bet to feel guilt-free in her pursuits." She scoffed. "I wonder how much he knows?"

Sakura closed her eyes. "I'm going to tell him everything when we start school. Look, Mai can leave me alone, so why can't you?"

"Because Mai is a spineless bitch, that's why." Meiling's eyes were cold. "And if she keeps acting the way she's been acting lately, she's going to run us all to the ground. We have one year left after this, and she's not going to ruin it for all of us."

Sakura said nothing. Was there a power struggle she wasn't aware of?

"I think I'm going to have a very good New Year's Eve," Meiling continued, playing with her long, straight black hair. "I hope you do, too." Her eyes flashed as she turned on her heel to follow the rest of the group.

Sakura sighed. If it wasn't one thing, it was always another.

* * *

"Hey, I'm gonna head to the bathroom for a second," Yamazaki said to Syaoran. "You guys don't wait up for me, okay?"

Syaoran shrugged. "Whatever. Just try to get back in time for the fireworks."

Yamazaki grinned and nodded. "Will do."

He turned around, and the smile faded off his face immediately as he began to walk back toward the house. Seeing Meiling and Chiharu walking up to where he'd just been, he stepped in front of them for a moment. "Chiharu, can I talk to you for a second?"

Meiling raised a brow. "Chiharu, what's he talking to you for?"

Yamazaki may have been a key part of Syaoran's life, but to the girls in Mai's entourage, looks and reputation mattered. And while _guys_ may have admired Yamazaki for his humor and his association with Syaoran, he was nothing but an extremely lucky geek, a child in an awkward teenager's body, to most of the girls.

Chiharu shrugged. "I—I don't know." She looked at Yamazaki with a panicked glance. "Um...you go ahead, though. I'm just gonna see what he wants."

Meiling sighed. "Well, hurry it up. Just because we missed watching the fireworks from my house doesn't mean that we have to miss them here." She strode off toward the hill in the back of the garden where everyone else was.

As soon as she was gone, Chiharu pulled Yamazaki behind a tree off to the side.

"What are you thinking?" she hissed. "You _know_ we have to keep quiet!"

"Well, then what are you doing here? " Yamazaki said, his expression both sheepish and confused.

"You heard Meiling—I was at her house, and I was going to sleep over when her father decided to bring us here..." Chiharu looked off to the side, her brows in a permanent crease. "I didn't realize—"

"You didn't realize that I'd be here?" Yamazaki laughed, although it came out somewhat choked because of his nervousness. "C'mon, Chiharu—it's Syaoran's house, I practically live here. You should've thought about that before. And you know it's bad when I have to tell you to get your head together," he said, trying to keep it lighthearted, although he knew he was failing miserably.

"Well, I'm _sorry_," Chiharu said, her own face expressing it. "But could we please keep this under wraps? Just for a little longer..."

Yamazaki sighed. How could he keep it lighthearted when he felt as though his stomach was plunging? _This is why I should never get involved with girls. _"Chiharu, I'm so tired of keeping this relationship a secret! Eriol and Syaoran are on to me, and—and why do we have to keep it a secret, anyway? Why can't people know that we like each other?" he asked earnestly, his voice more full of pleading than of anger. "Do you know how much it hurts when you act like you don't even know me? We don't even get to go out on real dates! I have to sit there and listen to Eriol and—and even _Syaoran_ talk about girls and act like I don't have you—and you're the only girl I want!"

Chiharu bit her lip. "I know, but—you know the girls, they're so intolerant! If they knew, they'd flip out! And they'd be mad at me for keeping it a secret in the first place."

"Why are you so worried about what they think, anyway? They're so..." Yamazaki looked off in the direction Meiling had gone. "They're so mean."

Chiharu snorted. "Mean? You don't understand anything about social skills," she said, knowing that she was hurting her boyfriend's feelings but willing herself to ignore it. "Because if you _did_, maybe I wouldn't have to worry about keeping this thing a secret."

Yamazaki stared at her a moment, hurt and more confused than he'd been all night.

Chiharu tried not to notice. It hurt her to see him like that, especially when she knew she was the one who'd caused it. But she'd reasoned in her head that she'd had her friends since middle school, and although she'd been good friends with Yamazaki in elementary school and decent friends with him in middle school and high school, she'd only started seriously dating him for a month. And if it came down to choosing between her best friends of the last five years or a boy whom, no matter her history with him as friends, she'd only dated for a month, she'd have to choose the former, just until she had a chance to somehow get away with both.

Yamazaki finally found his voice, although he sounded like he'd been kicked. "I don't—I don't want to do this anymore, then."

Chiharu looked up, finally willing herself to look him in the eye. "What?"

"I don't want to force myself to keep all of this a secret. So if your friends' approval is really that important, it's fine. I just want to date someone who's ready to like me back openly."

"No, Y-Yamazaki, you know how much you mean to me—"

"I've loved you for a long time, Chiharu."

Chiharu gaped at him, stunned. _Loved—loved me?_

"But I wouldn't have ever started dating you if I had known what a—" Yamazaki looked up at the sky, not wanting to look at her while he said it for fear of what emotions the action might elicit. "—what a shame I am to you. Not in a million years." He sighed and looked back at her, tears in his eyes. "It's over."

Wiping his eyes, he walked back toward the hill, leaving Chiharu speechless.

* * *

"Goddamn it, Syaoran, why am I here?" Eriol muttered, eyeing Ken with a look of envy and slight malice as he helped Syaoran pour cocoa into styrofoam cups.

"Because it's New Year's Eve and we didn't know that Tomoyo would bring her boyfriend?" Syaoran said, unsure of what the proper response was.

Eriol sighed heavily. "I swear to God she's doing it on purpose."

"Even I know her better than that."

"I know. I'm just trying to tell myself these things so I can get angry and forget about her."

"You know that won't work."

"Thanks, Sherlock."

Syaoran shrugged. "Just trying to help you out." He looked over at Tomoyo and Ken, who sat closely together on the edge of the hill, Tomoyo's head resting on Ken's shoulder. "They seem pretty happy together."

"Yeah, too bad he's a bastard," Eriol muttered.

"Oh, right. The whole two-weeks-no-phone-call thing. I know I'm probably the worst out of all of us about girls, but isn't that a big deal?" Syaoran said, frowning as he carried the cups back to the group.

"Does that even require an answer?" Eriol deadpanned.

Syaoran laughed and walked toward Tomoyo's end for Eriol's sake. They'd somehow switched places; a week before, Syaoran had been the one grumbling about girls, while Eriol had halfheartedly attempted to make him feel better. What was the world coming to?

* * *

Sakura did her best to avoid Meiling's gaze as Syaoran sat down beside her.

"Don't let her bother you," Syaoran muttered. "I'm sorry it worked out this way."

"Oh, no, it's not your fault at all," Sakura whispered back. "I just...have a bad history with her, that's all."

Syaoran frowned, wondering what that meant—or, rather, what it could have meant beyond Meiling's well-known history of bullying and Sakura's well-known history of...well, cowering—but instead of asking, he set down his cup and wrapped an arm around her. Sakura smiled at him, indicating that he'd done the right thing.

He smiled back. He was getting better at this whole relationship thing, after all.

* * *

"Hey, you're done with your cocoa," Ken pointed out. "That was fast. My cup's still half-full."

Tomoyo smiled. "Yeah, Sakura kind of got me on this chocolate fix after I got here."

"You want mine?"

"Oh, no! You drink it. I'm fine. Thanks, though," Tomoyo said, lacing her fingers through his. He grinned in response.

Things seemed to be okay between them; she had told herself to retain some dignity and stay angry with him as she'd gone to pick him up from the train station. After all, not only was he attempting to barge back into her life after shutting her out for two weeks, but he was inconveniencing her by arriving two hours early. But as he'd stepped off the train and grinned at her with that brilliant smile of his—oh, how she'd realized how much she'd missed him. Dignity had gone out the window. She was willing to give him another chance.

Deep down, she knew that she was doing herself a disservice; she should at least have attempted to figure out the real reason he hadn't called her those two weeks. But so satisfied was she with the peace and contentedness between them at the moment that she couldn't bring herself to start any more conflict.

_I'm such a little weasel,_ she thought, sighing. She glanced back at Eriol, who sat with Yamazaki. He hadn't spoken a word to her all evening.

* * *

"Sickening," Meiling said under her breath as she watched Syaoran put an arm around Sakura's shoulder. "Just look at them."

"I understand why you'd be upset," Chiharu said almost indifferently. She didn't necessarily agree that it was sickening—she almost, _almost _thought it was cute—but Meiling was her friend. "I'm surprised Sakura's gotten that far."

"_You're_ surprised? When Mai made that bet, we all thought we knew for sure what was going to happen, but I was so sure, I'd have been willing to bet my father's fortune on her failure!" Meiling's ruby eyes narrowed.

"I wonder what made him agree to go out with her," Chiharu mused.

"Why are you so dead all of a sudden?" Meiling looked over at her friend, frowning. "You were so bubbly a few minutes ago, before you—" Her eyes widened. "Did that geek Yamazaki say anything to you?"

"What? No, don't be silly. I'm just a little tired. I had to get up early this morning to visit the shrine with my mother," Chiharu responded, hoping her lying skills hadn't gone rusty. No one was harder to fool than Meiling—not even Mai.

Fortunately, Meiling did little more than eye Chiharu suspiciously before returning her gaze onto Sakura and Syaoran. "I think I'm going to tell Mai."

"Why?" Chiharu said, frowning. "It's not like she cares. She's the one who let Sakura off the hook, remember? And besides, doesn't that mean we won the bet, anyway?"

"My point exactly. Mai's been a little off lately. Her reaction will be her test to see if she can pick it up again. And if she doesn't, I say it's time we let her go."

"Let her go? But Mai's been our friend for years—"

"Yeah, well so was Sakura," Meiling snarled back, causing Chiharu to jump in surprise, "and look what happened." She looked at the ground, her jaw clenched.

And for the first time in years, Chiharu could trace the slightest hint of remorse in her voice and expression. "Meiling..."

When she looked at Chiharu again, she'd recomposed herself. "I'm not stupid. I know what we do isn't right. But we've dumped a friend before," she said, nodding towards Sakura. "And we can do it again. You know why we'd have to do it."

Chiharu looked at Meiling, about to protest, but then she sighed; in truth, Meiling was right. They had given Sakura up for their status, and almost like seasoned veterans, they knew what they'd have to do—and were willing to do it again—to retain that status. But did she think that status was worth it anymore? High school wouldn't last forever. Where would she—any of these girls, actually—be when they were out in the real world and couldn't push and shove their way into popularity? She looked at Yamazaki, who sat with Eriol, his back towards her.

"_I've loved you for a long time."_

The look in his eyes as he'd said that—Takashi Yamazaki, everyone's favorite goofball, reduced to tears—had killed her. _But really, how happy would he make me? _Chiharu examined her life as it was at present. Her family was fairly wealthy; she found joy in cheerleading, something she also happened to excel at; many people at school wanted to be her; and she had a steady group of friends. But in order to retain those friends, she had to step all over the very people who worshiped her. As a result, those friends were her only friends—so there was pressure to keep them, even if the things they did and asked her to do made her unhappy.

She studied Sakura's silhouette. Was Sakura happy? She seemed happy enough. And while she'd lived a quiet (non)existence at school, she'd never complained too much about it. She seemed happier than Chiharu was now.

Yamazaki's voice echoed in her head again. She felt awful. She liked him—she knew that much, since she'd agreed to go out with him in the first place—and he'd never been a _shame_ to her, had he? Chiharu bit her lip. She could see how he'd gotten that impression. The question was, did she like him enough to do the right thing?

The pressure fully built now, Chiharu had the choice to swallow the words rising up her throat or to let them come out.

What would it be?

"We don't _have_ to do anything, Meiling," Chiharu found herself blurting out, and before Meiling could react beyond widening her eyes, Chiharu stood up and marched off towards Yamazaki.

"Yamazaki," she said, tapping him on the shoulder.

He turned around, surprised. "Er...Chiharu, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he said, plastering on a smile. He looked bewildered.

Chiharu sighed. Even after what she'd put him through, he was putting on a front for her. Now she most definitely knew what she had to do. She pulled him up and into a kiss, much to everyone else's shock. After she broke away, she looked around, and surprisingly, she found satisfaction in Meiling's awed face. "Everyone, I have an announcement to make. Yamazaki and I are dating, and we have been for a month now."

* * *

"Well, that was certainly an eventful evening," Tomoyo thought out loud.

"I'm still a little confused," Ken mumbled back.

They were riding a cab back home; Syaoran had offered to give Tomoyo and Ken a ride home while he dropped Sakura off as well, but knowing how awkward it might be with her boyfriend, Tomoyo politely declined and said she had plenty of cab fare. Syaoran had noted her consideration for Eriol and smirked, shaking his head, although when Tomoyo apologized, he'd waved it off, telling her he knew that she'd never wanted to hurt his friend. For Syaoran, it had been a very introspective and surprisingly thoughtful response; it had made her feel a lot better.

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one. And I live here."

"What exactly went on tonight? It seemed like fifty things were happening at once."

"Ken, there is too much going on here for you to ever understand." Tomoyo avoided looking at him, even in the darkness. _My own story included._

"I guess I can't say I'm too sorry not to find out," Ken grinned, and Tomoyo laughed.

"It's refreshing to have you here, you know. I'm sorry I ever said I didn't want you to come." She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Well, I'm glad I decided to anyway," Ken said, kissing the top of her head.

Tomoyo was content; for the first time all evening, she forgot momentarily about Eriol and thought, if only slightly, that maybe she had done the right thing in staying with Ken.

* * *

"Is everyone gone?" Sakura asked, walking into the ballroom, where Syaoran was tossing paper cups into a trashbin in the corner.

"Yeah," Syaoran sighed. "Remind me never to invite more than just Eriol and Yamazaki to a New Year's party ever again."

Sakura laughed, sitting down on the floor. "It's not much of a party if it's just three people, you know."

"Oh, and you can tell me about parties?" Syaoran raised an eyebrow, hoping he hadn't gone too far with his joke. In spite of his closeness with her, he occasionally forgot her sensitivity.

Much to his relief, Sakura just laughed and turned red. "I guess you're right about that one."

Finished, Syaoran sat down beside her, leaning back on his hands. "I can't believe everything that happened tonight," he said, shaking his head. "Yamazaki and Chiharu—man, I'd never have figured that one out. I knew something was wrong with him lately, but..."

"Yeah," Sakura replied quietly. She didn't mention what _hadn't_ happened—she'd been frightened that Meiling was going to tell Syaoran about the bet. She was surprised that she hadn't, actually.

"You've been kind of quiet tonight, too," Syaoran said, frowning and nudging her. "Was it Meiling?"

"What? No," Sakura said, rolling her eyes. "She didn't bother me all night. She seemed to preoccupied with Chiharu, actually."

It was true; after Chiharu had announced her relationship with Yamazaki, Meiling had gone through the various stages in fast-forward—denial ("Chiharu, what are you talking about? You could never date this clown!"), anger ("I can't _believe_ you're dating this clown! And you didn't even tell me?"), grief ("God, I mourn for you. You could do so much better."—at which point Chiharu had glared at Meiling, who muttered back an apology), and finally, much to everyone's surprise, acceptance ("I don't approve...but you're my best friend. Just...don't talk to him when I'm around you."—which, from Meiling, was the closest thing to a blessing one could really get). And her acceptance had truly surprised everyone, perhaps Sakura even more than Chiharu: it was odd and almost life-changing to see that these girls had a softer side to them. She didn't understand why it was such a surprise to her, as she'd been friends with them in middle school; but she hadn't witnessed their more human personas since then, and it was shocking to see them emerge once more—Mai letting Sakura off the bet, Chiharu announcing publicly that she was dating a boy whom none of her friends would approve of, and Meiling actually accepting that—it was both insane and slightly encouraging.

Syaoran laughed. "That's true." He sighed. "I can't believe we start school the day after tomorrow."

Sakura nodded. "I know." She sighed, staring up at the mural on the ceiling. "I know I said I was ready for it, but now that it's almost here, I don't know." She looked at Syaoran enviously. "I bet you are, though."

Syaoran fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well, to be honest," he mumbled, "I don't really...know."

"What?" Sakura raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Quit acting so shocked, would you?" he grumbled. "It's not such a big deal."

"Syaoran Li, unsure of himself? I think it's a pretty big deal."

"Yeah, well..." Syaoran sat up and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I've never been in a relationship before! It's going to be weird dealing with all of their shit, okay?"

Sakura laughed. "Calm down! You're always so tense and defensive."

Syaoran shrugged. "I can't help it."

"I think we can do it," Sakura said more quietly, meaning it. For she did believe they could get through the talk of their relationship; but would there even be a chance for that? When she finally told Syaoran the truth, she knew he'd hate her.

"Hey," Syaoran frowned again. "There's that look on your face again."

Sakura shook her head. "It's nothing. I'm just tired."

"Well, I guess it's about time to take you home, anyway." He stood up and held a hand out to her, pulling her up as well. "But before we go—in my attempt to be a decent host, even with all the unwanted company," —and here, he took time to look irritatedly off to the side— "I didn't get to...you know. Do that thing that couples are supposed to do," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Sakura looked bewildered. "What thing?" In spite of herself, a plethora of scandalous actions ran through her mind, and she felt both silly and frightened.

Syaoran looked as though he was contemplating something very heavily for a moment, and then he sighed. "This thing," he said, and he brushed Sakura's hair back from her face and kissed her softly, his hands on either side of her face.

"Whoa," Sakura murmured as Syaoran pulled away. "That...thing."

Syaoran grinned. "Yeah."

"It will never _not_ be shocking when you do that," Sakura sighed, trying to prevent herself from smiling stupidly as she felt the familiar electric currents run through her system. "You're so different from how I thought you were. You know, in the beginning."

Syaoran inclined his head. "Same goes for you." He grabbed her hand and led her out of the house. "Not that I'm complaining."

When they finally stepped out of the house and into the car, Syaoran looked at her before he started the engine. "Happy New Year, Sakura."

"Happy New Year."

* * *

As a general rule, when one hopes a certain time will take longer to arrive, it usually comes much more quickly. Wednesday passed all too quickly for Sakura, and before she knew it, she was waking up for school on Thursday morning. This was it; today, she would have to tell Syaoran the entire truth. She had eight hours until school let out and she had to do it.

And as she headed towards school, she pondered all of the different ways the day could end; unfortunately, all of them ended in some form of misery. But she had to quit feeling sorry for herself; she had chosen this path, and this was what she deserved...right?

_But I never thought I'd start to like him._ And even beyond that, her growing love for him had intensified over the vacation; to her, he was undoubtedly one of the best things that had ever happened in her life, for he had become something of a best friend to her as well as a boyfriend. The thought of losing him made her stomach churn; it hurt physically to think about it.

Sakura sighed and shook her head. She knew that falling in love with him was no excuse. The moment she'd started to have feelings for him, she should have either backed out and avoided him or told him the truth straight away. It was she who had let this get so out of hand; thus, ultimately, she felt ready to take whatever was coming at her.

She looked up to see that she'd arrived at the entrance of the school. Sighing, Sakura squared her shoulders and walked inside.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Tomoyo asked as she walked down the hall with Sakura, books in hand.

"Nauseous," Sakura mumbled back. They'd both just gotten out of their first classes and were heading to their second, which they had together. Thankfully, Sakura didn't have any classes with Syaoran until the afternoon; she planned on walking only briefly into the cafeteria to get to the courtyard so she would have to see little of him at lunch as well.

"Well, I think what you're doing is really brave and...good, if that helps," Tomoyo responded. "A lot of girls in your position would just kind of let it keep going till they got caught."

Sakura sighed. "Yeah, well, I don't feel like I'm brave and good. I feel like I'm a coward who let this go way too far."

Tomoyo pursed her lips and looked over at her cousin. She looked as though she hadn't slept a wink. Tomoyo nudged her. "It's gonna be okay."

"Thanks," Sakura said, smiling. "At least I know you'll still be my number one supporter. Hey, whatever happened with Ken?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, did anything happen before he left?"

Tomoyo shook her head. "Not really. We hung out at my house for the most part yesterday, and then he left in the evening. He doesn't know about Eriol, if that's what you're asking. I still feel awful about that. I bet Eriol hates me."

Sakura shook her head. "Eriol doesn't hate anyone. If anything, I bet he's just sad that you're taken."

Tomoyo opened her mouth to reply, but they'd arrived at the classroom. "Talk to you after school," she whispered, and they stepped into the classroom.

* * *

"They were not," Mai whispered, trying her best to sound shocked. Truth be told, she was bored.

"Oh, yes, they were," Meiling whispered back furiously. "You should have _seen_ them—they were all over each other!"

"Well, when Kinomoto told me she liked him, I didn't think he liked her back," Mai mused.

"Ladies, is there a problem?" The teacher glared at them above the edge of the textbook from which he was copying sentences onto the board.

"No, Terada-sensei," Meiling said back politely, and she waited till he'd turned his back to them again before talking. "Well, I bet he wouldn't like her so much if he knew about that little deal we'd made a month ago," Meiling said, raising a brow.

"Meiling, I don't know—Sakura asked me not to tell him—"

"Oh, so you guys are on a first-name basis now? God, Mai, you're losing it. You never cared before what _Sakura_ wanted," Meiling muttered, rolling her eyes, and she turned back around to face the board.

Mai sighed. Why her friends were obsessed with ruining the lives of other people, she never understood. Was there no other way to remain on top?

_Well, I guess if this is the only way... _

She poked Meiling in the back with a pencil. "What lunch does Syaoran have again?"

Meiling grinned. "Third."

"If you don't hear about anything by the end of school today, consider me your subordinate."

"Done."

* * *

Sakura hurried from her classroom to the cafeteria. She'd planned on going to the cafeteria early so that she could avoid Syaoran altogether, but her teacher had asked her to remain behind to discuss an essay she'd written, and so she'd actually run behind. She was pondering to herself whether or not she should even walk into the cafeteria anymore, but she figured she was being ridiculous; after all, Syaoran didn't bite—not yet, anyway.

But before she even stepped into the typically noisy room, she knew something was wrong—because the cafeteria was dead quiet.

"And here's the woman of the hour," Mai said grandly as Sakura walked in.

Sakura frowned. "What's going on?" She looked around. Everyone stared at her in silence—Mai with satisfaction, Yamazaki and Eriol both with confusion, everyone else with varied expressions of disappointment, anger, or smugness—everyone except Syaoran, who would not look at her at all, but instead stared straight ahead of him, at nothing in particular.

"Mai," Sakura said cautiously, walking up to her. "What did you do?" She had a sinking feeling that she already knew.

"Oh, I just told Syaoran the well-deserved truth," Mai replied coldly. She tried to ignore the look of bewildered panic and hurt on Sakura's face. "You see, he apparently had no idea that you were manipulating him for your own benefit, and so I thought it my duty to let him know," she said, going up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

He immediately shoved it off. "Keep your fucking hands away from me." He stood up, pushing his chair out from behind him loudly, and looked at her with a piercing glare. "If you think this puts you in my good graces, you're fucking delusional."

Mai looked slightly surprised, but she recomposed herself quickly. "I don't _need_ to be in your good graces, Syaoran."

Syaoran ignored this and looked at Sakura, who nearly lost all her breath at the sight of his eyes. Once more, they betrayed his every emotion—and she could see how much hurt was in them. She felt her own eyes fill with tears; she had done this to him. She'd never hurt someone to this magnitude before, and Syaoran was one of the people who least deserved it. She had expected some pain—but nothing quite so..._raw._

"Is it true?" he said, his voice quiet. "If you told me no...I'd believe it."

_Because he trusts me._

Sakura was all too aware of every pair of eyes looking at her, whether it was with sorrow or regret or hatred or pity. She knew there was so much more to it than the way Mai had put it, but honestly, what did it matter? At the end of the day, she'd conned him. She'd fallen in love in the process, but utlimately, she'd conned him. And while she could very well take advantage of his trust in her, she was done with it. She had to do the right thing.

"Yes." The tears spilled over her eyes.

She saw Syaoran's jaw clench. For the briefest moment, she saw an unbearably vulnerable look pass over his face, and then, before anyone could take another breath, he stalked out of the cafeteria with long strides, muttering that he needed to get away.

_He's gone._ _He was one of the best things in your life, and you drove him away._

"Oh, God," Sakura mumbled to herself. Through blurry eyes, she found herself looking at Yamazaki and Eriol, who didn't look quite angry—in fact, they looked more confused and perhaps even sympathetic than angry. But they were the only ones.

Mai walked out of the cafeteria, dusting her hands off and not looking even once at Sakura, and the cafeteria erupted into conversation once more.

* * *

The bell rang, and Sakura leapt out of her seat, making her way towards the building where Syaoran's last class was.

It was three o'clock—school had just let out, and Sakura had no idea how she'd made it through the rest of the day in one piece. She'd spent her lunch, as planned, in the courtyard, but rather than spending it strategizing as she'd originally intended, she'd spent it crying. Throughout the day, each time she'd felt as though she could pull through had been somewhat undermined by the snickering and whispering of the students around her; she knew only too well that they were talking about her. The classes she'd had with Syaoran had been almost entirely unbearable. He had not looked at her—not once—although she'd certainly attempted to get his attention. But even if she _had_ gotten his attention, what would she have said? Not only would he not understand—and she felt that there was no way to justify her actions, anyway—but it would have been difficult with the jeering students around her.

And so she had planned to somewhat ambush him after his last class of the day—the only afternoon class he did not have with her.

Ignoring the continuous talk around her, she ran through the hallways, everything around her a blur, her heart racing. She at least had to tell him that she was sorry; because while there was no right way to tell him the truth, the way it had happened was undoubtedly the worst way. So she'd decided to put her own sadness aside and attempt to put on a front of composure, the same way she'd done for the first half of their relationship. It would certainly be harder, though; it had been so long, it felt like, since he'd been distant to her.

Finally, she arrived at the building and walked inside, attempting to catch her breath and looking around. And almost right in front of her, she saw him.

Immediately, she felt her palms go clammy, a rush of cold air invading her system. It was even tougher to act as though she wasn't hurt when she saw him so vulnerable. Syaoran, who almost always held his chin up high, his shoulders tensed and his back straight, walked with his head down, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped. Sakura could dimly hear the students around them, some whispering and some shouting, some pointing—all staring.

Suddenly, as though he had grown aware that someone was in his path, he looked up. Sakura tried not to shudder; his eyes were dead, the coldest she'd ever seen them. And before she could even open her mouth to speak, Syaoran turned around and began to walk the other way.

"Syaoran, just hear me out," she begged, attempting to keep herself together.

He continued to walk, not giving any remote hint that he'd heard her.

She sighed, her breaths shaky. She wouldn't follow him; if he didn't want to listen to her, he didn't have to. But she would try one more time, with no restraints; it was too much to try to keep her emotions contained.

"Syaoran—just...please," she said softly, her voice breaking.

He stopped. Sakura looked up, surprised that he'd even managed to hear her.

He turned around, the dead look in his eyes haunting. His voice, however, was far from dead—it was seething. "You did all of that," he said slowly, "just to impress those snobs?"

Sakura opened her mouth, about to protest, but he continued.

"You...you toyed with me, and you lied to me, just to _fit in_?"

Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she could even attempt to hold them back, they streaked down her face. "No, it's not like that!" she cried, shaking her head. "It's not—"

_It's not a lie...because really, Syaoran, I think I just might love you. _

But could she say something like that and really expect him to believe her? To him, she was merely a very good, very deceitful actress. She tried to find other words to replace the ones she wanted to say.

"Get over it, Kinomoto."

The familiar voice made Sakura's stomach churn. The hallway, which had grown hushed during Syaoran's exchange with her, suddenly got noisier. She turned around, dreading the thought of even seeing that face—

"You had your fun," Mai said, stepping towards her. Meiling and Chiharu flanked her sides.

Biting her lip, Sakura saw Meiling and put two and two together; there truly _had_ been a power struggle, she realized, and as decent as Mai had been, she'd never let Meiling get the upper hand.

_Selfish._

But was she any better than they were? She had been selfish, too. They were all selfish, all undeserving of the things they received... She closed her eyes and felt her knees give out.

"You had your fun," Mai repeated, watching Sakura fall to her knees with no emotional response, "and now you're paying the price." She laughed. "And to think, if you hadn't chickened out and forfeited, you'd have even won the bet. Oh, and Syaoran, congratulations on being duped into your first ever relationship." She smiled coldly at him. "May you have many more, each just as successful."

Scoffing, Syaoran licked his lips and looked off to the side, his fists clenching in his pockets. When he spoke, his words came out slowly, deliberately. "Whatever you were hoping to get out of this, I hope it feels as good as you thought it would. Because that is probably the best you'll ever feel."

Mai scoffed. "You think talking like a fortune cookie is going to scare me?"

Syaoran laughed coldly; it was a frightening sound. "Oh, if I wanted to scare you, I have no doubt that I could. But one day, you'll wake up, and you'll realize how fucking pathetic it is that your only satisfaction comes out of making hell out of other people's lives."

Mai stared back at him, not knowing what to say. Her eyes wandered, her mind searching...and she could not come up with anything—because he was right.

She rolled her eyes and turned around. Meiling and Chiharu followed her wordlessly out of the buidling.

Syaoran stood and watched, an inkling of satisfaction pervading his addled mind, and after the door had clanked shut, he stepped forward—toward Sakura—to the exit, and he stopped where Sakura sat on her legs, her knees inward. He looked down at her, and as her eyes met his, she gasped—a tear had made its way out of the corner of his eye and down his nose.

"As for you," he said, so quietly that only Sakura could hear, "you broke my heart. Not that you'd care, but consider this our breakup."

He walked off, and everything seemed frozen in time except for him, his footsteps echoing loudly throughout the hallway.

"I'm sorry," Sakura whispered, and she held her breath so that she would not weep.

* * *

"God," Tomoyo breathed as she stroked Sakura's hair.

"Yeah," Sakura said, trying to laugh. Her nose was stuffy from crying. "I don't even know what to feel anymore."

Sakura lay in her bed while Tomoyo sat beside her and listened to her recount the events; of course, Tomoyo had heard the watered-down, sensationalized version of it as it gradually floated around school. But she had headed straight toward Sakura's house after school and waited for her there so that she could hear what _really_ happened—and never had she wished so much that she had been there to help. As much as Tomoyo hated to admit it, Mai and her clique were a force to be reckoned with. Sakura had once described them as a "high school mafia;" what they had done to Sakura had been nothing short of a social murder.

Tomoyo said nothing as she handed Sakura a tissue. Sakura accepted it gratefully and wiped at her eyes; she tossed it onto the floor, where a steadily growing pile of them sat.

"I guess," Sakura said, taking a shaky breath, "I really did get what I deserved. And even though I hate losing him, it's not even that that I care about the most. I just wish...I wish I hadn't hurt him so much." She shut her eyes, and her face contorted. "I can't believe I made him cry, Tomoyo. He—he said I broke his heart." Her voice cracked.

"Look, it wasn't all your fault, okay? You're being entirely too hard on yourself," Tomoyo murmured. "You couldn't help yourself—you were falling in love."

"Which is exactly why I should have told him the moment I felt it. God, I'm such an idiot," she breathed.

"Sakura..."

"At least there's a bright side to all of this. Now I don't have to worry about people talking about our relationship," Sakura said, trying to laugh again. She hated crying in front of others, even if it was just Tomoyo.

Tomoyo brushed a few more strands of Sakura's hair out of her face. "Well, I'm glad you're trying to make light of it." She sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Sakura. I really...I hope he comes around. You should try to explain yourself to him."

Sakura scoffed. "He wouldn't believe me. But thanks for listening to me mope." She sat up; her head felt heavy. "I'm gonna go take a shower and go to sleep. I'm exhausted."

Tomoyo nodded. "Do you want me to stay?"

"No, no. It's getting late. Go home. I'll see you at school in the morning."

Tomoyo gave Sakura a tight hug. "Good night, Sakura. Call me if you need me, okay?"

Sakura nodded. "Thanks."

Tomoyo walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She nearly jumped when she found Touya waiting for her, leaning against the opposite wall of the hallway. "God, Touya, think you could creep more?"

Touya laughed. "You spend too much time around my sister." His smile faded quickly. "Speaking of which, is she all right?"

Tomoyo bit her lip. "I...don't think so. But she'll come around."

Touya sighed. "I suppose you won't tell me what's wrong?"

"You know me too well," Tomoyo said, laughing. "If Sakura gets around to it, she'll tell you. Don't pry. Just...be there. And check in on her every once in awhile."

Touya made an impatient face, but he nodded. "Thanks."

He stared at Sakura's door as Tomoyo walked away. He scowled. He wasn't stupid; he knew it had something to do with that boy—Syaoran. But Tomoyo wouldn't have warned him to leave Sakura alone for no reason, and so Touya chose to ignore his brotherly instincts—for the time being.

* * *

"Syaoran, you have to slow down," Clow Reed called out, frowning.

Syaoran stopped, breathing hard and leaning on his knees. "Sorry," he muttered.

Clow Reed had returned a few days before; Syaoran's first training session since his instructor's vacation was today. Of course, Syaoran was in no mood to train—naturally, his mind was on other things—but it was not in his nature to give excuses, and so he had gone to the training grounds after school with no complaints.

But how could he practice when, instead of envisioning the moves he needed to perform and feeling the usual, familiar passion flow through his body, all he could do was see those green eyes flash in his mind's eye, over and over again?

She had hurt him. He had trusted her, and as much as he hated to admit it, he had let her hurt him.

"What's wrong with you? You were able to do this set perfectly when I left. Have you not been practicing?" Clow knew that Syaoran was one of his best students; the boy had more self-discipline than any other teenager he knew.

Syaoran shook his head. "I have been. I just...I'm a little distracted." He bowed his head. "I'll try again."

Clow sighed. "That's all right. I trained you pretty hard today, so I'll let you stop here. But you need to master that set before the tournament."

Syaoran nodded. "Yes, sir."

The thin line that Clow's mouth had set into softened. He walked up and, in an atypical gesture, rumpled Syaoran's hair. "I'm proud of you, though, for doing so well thus far." Clow walked off, most likely in search of Yelan.

Syaoran walked off the platform and onto the lawn, where he proceeded to fall back onto the cold, soft ground. He let out a long exhale, and he shut his eyes, attempting to think of anything else but Sakura. Of course, he failed; images of her rolled through his head like a film reel—her hair, her smile, her eyes, her lips. He cursed her for invading his thoughts so inconsiderately.

How appropriate it was that she had been the next girl to ask him out. They had both dated each other on false pretenses; Syaoran had just admitted his blunder first. Had she ever planned on telling him?

He'd thought she was different—that, to her, his popularity hadn't mattered. But in a way, she was exactly the same as the rest of them. She may not have dated him for his own popularity, but she had done it to prove herself to gain her own popularity. That was almost worse. And so he decided that she was the exact opposite of what he'd admired her for: she was cold, and she was fake.

So why had she looked so hurt that afternoon? Was someone capable of faking such pain? And if she was so cold, why had her eyes been so warm?

Syaoran groaned in frustration. He hated himself for this. He hated himself for getting involved in something he clearly had not been able to handle—for he had taken on a monster of a task.

And in the process, as much as he hated to admit it, he had failed to regain his balance as he'd hoped he would; he had almost certainly fallen in love.

* * *

I realize that this is a very anticlimactic ending, haha. Please forgive me! Augh, augh, I hated writing this chapter. Absolutely hated it. I've spoiled myself so much by writing fluff for the last few chapters that writing angsty scenes have completely left my range of ability (if it was ever there in the first place). I wrote that after-school scene yesterday afternoon, and it left me depressed until evening. :/ I'm not quite as happy with this chapter as I wish I was, but I was satisfied with certain parts of it. If you guys have any suggestions, I'll gladly take them and attempt to edit this chapter later! **But I do hope I managed to effectively convey the raw emotion that these characters are supposed to feel. **I made a whole playlist of dramatic Korean ballads and whatnot and listened to it while writing to keep me in the mood. :P And I finally wrote that mysterious first scene! Now you guys understand why Syaoran would be so angry, haha. I think it's fair of him to be mad. **I wrote it in the first chapter in Syaoran's point of view, though, and here, I made it more from Sakura's point of view. I hope that sheds some light on the whole scene**. Anyway, please leave a review, and thank you so much for reading! Love you all!

-boreum dal


	14. Stay

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hey, guys! Yay, another (relatively) quick update! I'm very happy with myself. Enjoy this while it lasts, because I don't know if I can keep up this pace when school starts, sigh. Thanks for the reviews! They're each so amazing, and they seriously encourage me to write so much more quickly. (Hint hint :D) Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this next chapter—for those who crave more fluff no matter what, you'll get your fair share here. Thanks for reading, and have fun!

**Chapter 14: **Stay

As the weeks passed, it was almost as though the event had never occurred. In fact, it was almost as though Syaoran and Sakura had never known each other in the first place; as before, Syaoran paid no mind to Sakura. If he did think about her at all, it was not evident. Sakura attempted to do the same, although it was more difficult for her to mask her feelings. Perhaps it would not have been so hard, she thought, if she didn't have to spend several hours in the same rooms with him every day.

They ignored each other at lunch as well; but that was most definitely harder to ignore, at least for Sakura. Not only did the cafeteria remind her what several situations she had been through in there, but her walk from the lunch line to her table was, to say the least, awful. And it wasn't even because the people around her now felt justified in ridiculing and insulting her; she had grown so numb to them that they did not faze her. Rather, it was because Syaoran—and rightfully, Sakura thought—did not bat an eye at the harsh words. He did nothing to stop his peers, and all Sakura could think about was his first promise to her.

But beyond that, life had moved on. She ate, slept, and went to school; her best friends were once more her father and brother, with the pleasant addition of Tomoyo. After putting her life on pause for approximately four days to cope with the incident, Sakura had finally decided that she had been wrong, and there was nothing she could do about it now. What was the point in apologizing when Syaoran didn't even want to hear it? So with the help of Tomoyo, she had attempted to move on. It wasn't without pain, though; when left alone, Sakura's mind wandered, and inevitably, it'd wander to precisely what she did _not_ want to think about. And in that area, she wondered most often how Syaoran would have reacted if _she_ had been the one to tell him.

She often told herself that it wouldn't have been any different.

As a pleasant surprise, Yamazaki and Eriol had not decided, as Syaoran had, to act as though Sakura had never happened. While they never actually sat her down and talked to her—or talked about what had happened—they acknowledged her cheerfully in the hallways, waving and grinning. Only when around Syaoran did they ignore her, and Sakura found herself grateful.

And throughout all of this, it was impossible to say that she was happy—or even normal. She was sad...not a tragic sad or a dramatic sad, but a listless kind of sad. Sakura realized that amidst the clutter of her life, she had made room for Syaoran in the time she'd known him; and as she'd gotten to know him further, she had had to clear out more and more space for him. And now that he was gone, there was no filling up that space with anything else. So while Sakura often struggled to find something lively to serve as some kind of meager substitute, it never worked. For Syaoran's presence was irreplaceable, and Sakura was quite aware, mostly due to the dull ache she often tried to ignore, that she had lost a part of her life that had grown progressively bigger in the time of its existence.

Despite how often she told herself that that ache would go away with time, it only seemed to grow more pronounced as the weeks went by. And as the ache grew sharper, Sakura realized more and more what exactly she'd lost.

* * *

"Syaoran?"

"Try slapping him."

"Yamazaki, when do I ever take your advice?"

"Just try it!"

"Shut up. Syaoran! No, Yamazaki, wait—"

_Slap._

"OW!" Syaoran held a hand to his face and glared at Yamazaki. "What the hell was that for?"

Yamazaki winced, waiting for Syaoran to hit him back. "Eriol and I were trying to get your attention, and you weren't hearing us."

"Oh." Syaoran took the hand from his face and resumed staring at the math textbook laid out in front of him.

Yamazaki and Eriol exchanged glances.

They were holding a study session in Syaoran's study once again; January had progressed steadily into mid-February, and midterms were rolling around. As of late, Syaoran had been even quieter than usual, speaking only every so often to Yamazaki and Eriol and no one else at school. He had also somewhat disappeared for the last few weeks save when he was at school; consumed in his martial arts practices, he'd often said he had a lot of work to do before his next big tournament. But that tournament had passed, and his hard work had paid off—he had gotten first place in two of the three divisions he'd fought in—and now, he really had no excuse to be absent from the world anymore. Knowing that their friend was too proud to admit exactly how much he'd been affected by Sakura's revelation, Yamazaki and Eriol never spoke a word about it, but rather silently teamed up to get Syaoran back to being the semi-sociable guy he'd been before.

"All right, this is getting a little ridiculous," Eriol said, pulling the textbook from Syaoran's hands.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Syaoran asked angrily, attempting to grab the textbook back and failing.

Eriol snapped it shut with one hand and readjusted his glasses. "Look, Syaoran. You've been living like a half-person since January. You don't have to worry about any more tournaments for awhile and you usually do fine on midterms without much studying, anyway, so why don't we just take a break and go see a movie or something?"

Yamazaki nodded nervously. This was the closest they'd gotten to confronting Syaoran about the incident.

Syaoran sighed. "Eriol, hand me the book."

"No," Eriol responded, unfazed and unemotional. "Take a break and get out of your house."

Syaoran's jaw clenched and unclenched, his frustration growing by the minute. He spoke slowly, his teeth gritted. "Hand me the book."

"Let me rephrase that. Quit _hiding_ in your house like it's some damned protective force field and get back to living like a human being. You can't go on like this just because things didn't work out between you and Sakura—Syaoran, what the hell!"

Before Eriol could continue, Syaoran had attempted to punch Eriol in the face, only to be blocked just in time. Eriol held on to Syaoran's wrist forcefully, glaring at him.

"Leave her name out of this," Syaoran muttered, breathing hard and glaring back.

"Guys—guys, stop," Yamazaki said, waving his hands helplessly. Neither of his friends seemed to have heard him.

"Why? Because you want to act like it never happened? It _did,_ Syaoran, and instead of living in denial, why don't you just be a man and admit that you finally took a risk and put some faith in someone other than me, Yamazaki, or your family? It may not have come out the way you wanted, but acting like it didn't happen—that Sakura never happened—isn't going to make this any better for you!" Eriol forcefully threw Syaoran's wrist to the side. "And while you're at it, quit being so damn stubborn and swallow your pride. Maybe you should ask Sakura what really happened—since when have you ever taken Mai's word for the complete truth, anyway? If it _were_ the truth, why would Sakura look so miserable all the time?"

Yamazaki watched the scene before him, nervous as to what would happen next. It wouldn't be the first time Syaoran and Eriol had ended up in a scuffle. Of course, Yamazaki was always dragged in between.

Syaoran was silent for a moment, and then he grabbed his textbook from where Eriol had set it down. He stood up and began to pack his book bag. "Get out."

Eriol narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Get out," Syaoran said calmly. "It's none of your concern, and I don't feel like dealing with your psychotherapist bullshit right now."

His fists clenched, Eriol grabbed his own bag, which he hadn't unpacked at all. "Fine." Without looking at Yamazaki, he stormed out of the room.

Yamazaki stood silently, not knowing what to do. In surprise, he watched as Syaoran set down his bag and sat back tiredly in a chair, his expression softening. "Er...do you want me to go, too?"

Syaoran shook his head. "Do whatever you want."

Yamazaki looked around awkwardly, wondering what exactly he should say. "I, uh..." He glanced at his watch. "Hey, the toy store closes in an hour. I wanted to go and pick up the new Gundam model..."

A flicker of a smile appeared on Syaoran's lips. "Go ahead."

Yamazaki grinned. "Thanks, man. Things'll be back to normal by tomorrow, right?"

"Sure."

As Yamazaki walked toward the door, Syaoran called out to him. Surprised, Yamazaki turned around.

"Tell Eriol," Syaoran said, looking as though he were developing a headache, "that he's right."

_Another indirect apology,_ Yamazaki thought wryly. _If I had a dime for every one of these I've had to deliver between those two..._ He grinned. "Sure thing."

As Yamazaki left, Syaoran rubbed his eyes. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately; it seemed as though no matter how tired his body was, his mind had forgotten how to shut up, and his loud thoughts often kept him awake. Last night, he'd stared at the trophy he'd won at the tournament, wondering how much better the victory might have felt had Sakura been there—and then he'd had to tell himself to snap out of it, something he had done over and over in the last few weeks.

He was surprised at how difficult it still was to ignore Sakura. He could feel his eyes on her in the classroom, but he never looked back; he was worried that if he did, he would see the very misery that Eriol had been ranting about just minutes before, and he would fall prey to it. He'd thrown himself into everything else—martial arts, his schoolwork, and he'd even taken to helping Wei out around the house on occasion—and yet, no matter what, in the back of his mind, he couldn't see anything else besides her.

It was a curse, this persistent memory of her. It was just as debilitating as his initial attraction to her had been; and quite often, he found himself wondering if that memory and his attraction were of the same root.

But these things would pass with time, wouldn't they? As dramatic as it sounded, he was merely a sixteen-year-old experiencing the throes of a first love, and realistically, these emotions would not last forever and the events that had taken place would gradually fade away in his memory.

At least, he hoped so.

* * *

_The walk home seems so much longer every time I buy one of these,_ Yamazaki thought, holding the Gundam model kit in his hands. He was itching to just sit on the concrete and start building it where he was; the sidewalk felt as though it was stretching forever.

"Yamazaki!"

Yamazaki turned around, nearly dropping the model kit. He grinned and waved. "Hey, Tomoyo! What are you doing here?"

Tomoyo smiled and walked up beside him. "I'm just heading home from the grocery store," she said, holding up a bag of fruits.

"Oh, me, too. Wanna walk with me?"

"Sure. What do we have here?"

"Oh, uh—nothing," Yamazaki muttered, hiding the box behind his back.

Tomoyo laughed. "A guilty pleasure, I suppose?"

"Yeah, something like that," Yamazaki said, flushing. "So what's up?"

"Mmm, nothing. We haven't hung out in awhile, huh?"

Yamazaki frowned. "Yeah, not since...well, you know."

"Yeah," Tomoyo said, mimicking Yamazaki's expression. "God, I really wish it had turned out differently."

"Well, Syaoran's reluctant to trust and quick to get angry, so I guess I'm not surprised. But I wish it, too. Sakura seemed like a good person."

"She is," Tomoyo responded. "It's eating away at her, this whole thing. I wish she had the guts to tell Syaoran the truth."

"The truth?"

"Well, as fake as the situation might have been, her feelings for him were real, you know."

Yamazaki nodded. "I'd believe it." He raised his eyebrows and sighed. "Syaoran wouldn't, though."

Tomoyo grimaced. "I know."

They walked in silence for awhile; Tomoyo finally broke it by asking about Chiharu.

"Oh, things are going great," Yamazaki said, smiling. "You know, she didn't really think it was going to work out beyond like, a week, but it's been two and a half months now, and we're still together!" He chuckled. "She doesn't go shouting it from the rooftops that we're dating or anything, but at least she's not scared to say hi to me anymore. And if anyone asks her about us, she'll tell them the truth now."

"Well, that's good," Tomoyo said, smiling. "Er...how's Eriol?"

Tomoyo and Eriol had stopped speaking since New Year's Eve. While she had hoped to get back in touch with him, Sakura's situation had taken precedence, and Tomoyo had thought that it wouldn't be the best idea to try to rekindle her friendship with him until the issue with Syaoran had cleared up a little. As for Ken, they had remained in touch, but much to Tomoyo's frustration, it was sparse; and when Ken _did_ manage to talk to her, he seemed different—less interested and more in a hurry to get off. It felt as though the person who'd come to visit her had gone away and never spoken to her again. She almost hated him for what he did; every time she felt as though she was finally ready to give up, he answered the phone. And when she voiced her worries to him, he brushed them aside and told her that he was still one hundred percent _hers_.

_If that's what one hundred percent is,_ Tomoyo had thought to herself, _then a good boyfriend must give two hundred._ She had no idea where their relationship was going, but it wasn't looking strong.

"Oh, he's well," Yamazaki said, fidgeting. He laughed. "He'd kill me if he heard me telling you this, but I think he really got bummed over you for awhile."

"Oh." Tomoyo's face fell. She had hoped, for his sake, that Eriol had forgotten about her and moved on. And of course, Yamazaki probably didn't know all the details of what had happened between her and Eriol; if he did, he probably would have avoided Tomoyo out of loyalty to his friend. "Well..." she hesitated, but at the last moment, she shook her head and decided to go for it. "Just...tell him I said hi."

Yamazaki nodded. "Will do."

"My house is off to the right" Tomoyo said, waving. "I'll see you at school!"

"Bye!" Yamazaki waved back and continued to walk ahead.

* * *

Meiling ran a hand through her long black hair as she headed down the staircase and toward her front door. She passed her father's office on the way out, and she glanced briefly over to make sure he was in there to hear her.

"Father, I'm going to Mai's house for a bit—" She stopped. Who was in the room with him?

"Meiling, come in here for a moment."

Sighing, Meiling walked into the office. _Not this again._ As she stepped into the lavish room, a young, well-groomed man in a suit stood beside her father, who sat in his leather chair behind a large desk scattered with papers and knickknacks.

"Yes, Father?" Meiling asked, trying to keep the iciness out of her voice. She avoided looking at the young man—she knew what this was.

"Meiling, I'd like you to meet my new protege, Ryuji Fuukawa. He'll be here every night helping me sort out materials for this business deal with Yelan Li."

Meiling's father was the CEO of a company that dealt in stocks, and quite often, he was bringing in "new proteges" of a similar breed—young, clean-cut, well-dressed, rich, and last but not least, impossibly condescending. This was not the only reason Meiling did not like meeting these men, though; she could deal with condescending. What she could not deal with was her father's obvious preference for them over her, his own daughter.

For years, it had been a well-kept secret within Meiling's family that her father had wanted a boy, a suitable heir for his company throne. After giving birth to Meiling, however, his wife had developed health complications, and as such, she could not deliver another child. And while Meiling's father wanted a boy quite badly, he loved his wife too much to throw her away for a mistress able to provide him an heir, as most had expected him to do. Those health complications eventually led to the death of Meiling's mother—Meiling was only six at the time—and consequently, Meiling's father had thrown himself into his work, deciding definitively that he would search and scour for someone worthy—an adoptive son, an heir—to take over his company. Never had he considered that his own daughter, a rather smart, poised, and independent, if not somewhat cold and calculating, girl who was quickly growing into a mature woman, could fulfill that place—_precisely_ because she was a woman.

For years after her mother's death, Meiling had exhausted herself trying to impress her father, forcing herself to study and train so that she could rise to the top in her grades and her extracurriculars. She did this to compete with the young men that her father trained so tirelessly, for they received the attention that she had never quite attained. And to an extent, her efforts had paid off: she was third in the class academically and the track team's most valuable member. But that was where her success stopped, for no matter what the achievement, her father had never seemed to take notice. And finally, after her first year of high school had come to an end, her nanny had taken pity on Meiling and told her the truth: her father would never see her for what she wanted him to see her—she was the daughter he'd never wanted.

With a complex like that, where was there to turn to? Frustrated, Meiling had given up on her father, recognizing him only because he was her provider and they lived under the same roof. Instead, she'd turned her attentions to school; she was already popular there, worshiped and paid attention to the way she was not at home. But for some reason, it never seemed to be enough. So, at any cost, Meiling had chosen her path: she would get in high school what she could not get from her own father, and that was love and adoration.

She had succeeded; but in turn, she'd ended up developing an exaggerated sense of just how important this hierarchy was. And she was well aware of it, for after three years of stepping on people and stabbing backs to remain at the top, the girls around her seemed to want other things. Mai seemed bored, too willing to back out of anything; she was barely interested in the whole Sakura/Syaoran scandal, and she had not taken the pleasure in breaking them up that everyone had expected her to take. With college approaching, Naoko had lately focused far less on doing homework for her friends and much more on building up her own resumé. And Chiharu, of course, had allowed Yamazaki to become the object of her affections—and general attention—in spite of her constant promises that she wouldn't.

So where was Meiling in all of this? Why was everyone else able to move on with their lives, while she was stuck with the same transparent issue?

Ryuji smirked at her as he said hello, indiscreetly eyeing her up and down. Meiling bit back the poisonous words she felt rising up her throat, and she politely nodded at him, although she threw her coldest glare in his direction. So many of these men were sleazeballs, used to getting whatever they wanted—this was not the first time one had made a pass at her. For all of his prestige, her father had terrible taste, Meiling thought.

"You could afford to be more like Ryuji here, you know," Meiling's father said to her, looking proudly at the young man. "He's just graduated from Tokyo University and he's interning while he attends business school. Excellent recommendations all around."

Meiling softly _tch_ed in disgust and sighed. "Right. Well, Father, I'm off."

"Be back for dinner."

"Yes, sir."

As she walked out the front door, Meiling mentally slapped herself for feeling what she'd felt inside: in spite of all of the bitterness she felt towards her father, she couldn't help but wish that he would look at her the way he'd just looked at the stranger standing beside him.

* * *

A week later, Tomoeda High School was collectively tense, its students getting little to no sleep in their quest to make A's—or at least passing grades—on their last midterm exams of the year. And while most hated it, Sakura found herself almost enjoying it, for midterms provided her mind a brief reprieve from the persistent memory of Syaoran Li.

She felt that perhaps she had somewhat overdone the whole studying process; while she'd never given _too_ much thought to her grades—no more than the average student, really—she had run herself to the ground studying this time around. For when her mind was not on the books, it was on Syaoran. And to _not_ think about him was a great gift, something addictive in its own right, as she had not been able to go without thinking about him for quite some time. On top of that, as much as she hated to admit it, she still found herself in that same listlessly sad mood quite often, and in between studying profusely and being, for all intents and purposes, depressed, Sakura had shed some weight and made herself sick.

Of course, though, there was no time to be sick during exams week; as such, Sakura had decided put her health on the back burner for just the week. On Friday, she would rest, and by Monday, she decided, she would be peachy again.

By Friday, however, she was physically exhausted. It was next to impossible to ignore her sickness now. Through the week, she'd taken the minimum precautions when she'd had time—taken over-the-counter cold medicines, slept what little she could (although even that became a hassle when she began to dream of Syaoran and, strangely, giant ice cream cones), and made herself broth to sip on as she studied. Her father had expressed some concern, for he was due out of town for a convention from Thursday to Wednesday, but Sakura had told him all would be fine, and he had reluctantly left. Miraculously, though, she made it through Friday, even feeling decent about her last exam, and she headed home.

With Touya visiting Tokyo University with Yukito for the weekend, Sakura had no one to go home to. She'd invited Tomoyo over, but Tomoyo had already made plans with her mother for Friday night, although she had promised to visit on Saturday with soup, medicine, and a movie.

_If I can even make it to tomorrow,_ Sakura thought, rolling her eyes. She'd really screwed herself over on this one. It sounded pathetic enough—in her quest to forget Syaoran, she had carelessly disregarded her health and ended up with her current headache. It was only a befitting result, really. This was what she got for letting herself get so reckless with her feelings.

After arriving at home and attempting to rest, Sakura had found the headache unbearable; and so she had dredged up the energy to walk to the nearest drugstore and buy a more powerful medicine. Now that she was walking back home, her head pulsing, she was wondering how wise _any_ of her decisions were—the walk home felt twice as long as usual.

* * *

Syaoran wandered off of the bus, wondering briefly which direction to walk in to reach the library. He had taken to using the bus as of late; driving his car, melodramatic as he felt thinking this, reminded him too much of Sakura, and he had rarely used it in the last few weeks. He hadn't used his bus pass since before he'd learned how to drive, though, so he'd ended up having to make a new one—a hassle that he had wryly blamed on Sakura.

He looked up at the sky, which threatened rain; the clouds seemed to hang heavily over themselves. He sighed. Typically, he preferred solitude, but he wished he had called Eriol or Yamazaki to go with him today; he didn't really feel like being alone.

Absentmindedly, he looked off to the side, only to be shocked by the sight of Sakura herself, shuffling on the other side of the street in the opposite direction, a white paper bag clutched in her hand. Syaoran almost laughed; he had indeed cut off relations with her, but the trend of running into her, especially when he didn't want to, had not stopped. He'd forgotten how close the library was to her house.

For the first time in awhile, he allowed himself to look more closely at her, since she didn't seem to notice him; and frankly, it did not take close inspection to see that she looked miserable. He'd noticed that something was off about her the last few days; amidst the quiet atmosphere of the rooms during exam periods, he'd heard the occasional sniffle from Sakura, and by the end of the week, it had grown to quiet coughing on top of the sniffling. In the one moment he'd glanced at her that afternoon, he'd watched her set her pencil down and briefly lay her head on the desk, her eyes closed. Syaoran had quickly looked away; he didn't want to worry about her anymore, but it was a tough habit to break.

_She looks even worse now_, Syaoran thought to himself. She looked unstable and exhausted, and he practically expected her to collapse then and there. He sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. _Don't do it. Don't do it. You're supposed to be getting over her, not offering her another opportunity to con you._ Against his better judgment, he looked over at her one more time—of course, her appearance had not improved. If anything she looked even worse as she briefly paused to rub her temple.

_Damn it._

He walked across the street and over to Sakura, causing her to jump in surprise as he tapped her shoulder.

"Oh, Syaoran," she murmured upon seeing him. Her green eyes looked cloudy and dazed. She was too tired to express how surprised she was.

There was a long silence, as Syaoran did not respond. After weeks of not talking and not even making eye contact, Sakura wanted to drink in his presence—but how could she, when her confused, exhausted brain could only wonder in a million different ways where he had come from, and more importantly, why he was suddenly speaking to her?

_Or not speaking to me. What does he want? _If he wasn't going to speak, she would. She had been herself around him at some point in time; there was no point in being nervous or shy anymore, right? Now, if only she could form some of her more feeble thoughts into coherent conversation...

"You scared me," she said, smiling timidly. "It's funny to see you here—there's no one else out here right now." She looked up at the sky; her head seemed to loll back heavily. "I guess it's because it's going to rain soon. I hope I can make it back home before it does..."

Syaoran frowned. She was rambling, something fairly uncharacteristic of her.

She noticed him staring before he had the chance to recompose his face, and she smiled again. "Sorry, I'm going on about nothing. Is there something you need?"

Syaoran clenched and unclenched his fists, frustrated at how formal she was being. _But then again,_ he thought, _I guess it would be out of line to act like we're friends again._ He briefly considered walking away, but that would be ridiculous—it wasn't like she would bite. He looked at her more closely, now that he was in front of her: she was shivering slightly, although she looked decent for a sick person. Nonetheless, he recognized that even in a "decent" condition, she should not have gone to school that day, and she definitely should not have been out today, especially in the cold, near-rainy weather. "You look like you're dying," he said bluntly.

Sakura tried to laugh, although it sounded congested and stuffy. That definitely wasn't among the top ten things she would have expected him to say when he first decided to speak to her again. (And yes, she had thought about that—many times, actually.) "I know I don't really look fantastic or anything today—"

He reached over and touched her forehead; it was hot. He frowned. "You're really sick." It wasn't a question; it was an observation, a fact.

"Yeah, but I'll get better in no time. I'm on my way home from getting medicine, actually," she said, lifting up the paper bag. She was pleased with herself for acting so normal; she attributed it to the sickness, though. Had she been well, she would have been more bewildered.

He ignored her. "Why'd you go to school today? Iknew something was off about you."

"Are you kidding? That exam was huge—I'd have been crazy to miss it—"

"You're an idiot. You can't take exams in this kind of condition!" He didn't know why, but he was practically shouting at her. It wasn't necessarily anger that he felt, though, was it?

Sakura finally let down the façade and sighed tiredly. "Could you just leave me alone?" she said, her voice quiet."You're right, I don't feel well. I just want to go home and go to sleep." Really, she wasn't upset because he was yelling at her; in fact, she was upset because that yelling made it sound like he actually still cared about her. Her brain and body were too tired and too ill to deal with his games—he couldn't just ignore her for a month and a half and then, out of what seemed like concern, yell at her for going to school sick. She felt like she was dreaming.

Syaoran rolled his eyes, but he turned around and gestured for her to get on his back. "I'll take you home."

"Wh-what?"

"Don't make a big production out of it. I just don't want you passing out in the middle of the street."

"Why are you doing this all of a sudden? We haven't spoken—even acted like we know each other—since—"

"Because unlike some people, I'm a decent human being, and I saw you from across the street about to collapse. I wasn't following you or something dumb like that. I was on my way to the library. Now, you're wasting my time." Syaoran gestured once more for her to get on his back.

Sakura stood there for a few more moments, still confused despite the explanation, until Syaoran sighed impatiently. Then, awkwardly, she climbed onto his back, resting her head on the back of his shoulder. Her hands, one still holding her bag, dangled around his front. She closed her eyes, deciding that wondering about this was making her even more exhausted; she would figure it all out later. "Thanks," she mumbled.

Syaoran made his way toward Sakura's house, noting the silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, oddly enough; rather, it was peaceful, although it felt more like the eye of the storm than the calm after it. He looked over at Sakura, who had fallen asleep within seconds. When things were like this, he thought, it was hard to believe she'd ever done what she'd done.

He sighed and continued forward, smiling bitterly at how everything had played out.

* * *

"Syaoran, really, you don't have to wait here," Sakura muttered, attempting to stand up. "You've done enough."

They were in her living room now; Syaoran had just called a restaurant to deliver food—he'd admitted himself that he wasn't such a great cook. He rolled his eyes and strode over to the sofa, pushing Sakura back down. "I just want to make sure the food gets here safe and sound. Now sit down and go to sleep."

Sakura crossed her arms and sighed. "You sure are bossy," she muttered.

"Look, I'm doing you a _favor_, okay?" he snapped, ready for her to fire back.

Instead, though, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back tiredly. "You're right," she murmured, her voice stuffy. "I'm sorry."

At that, he remembered how sick she really was, and he calmed down. He exhaled and sat down on the sofa beside her, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, which were folded together. "It's all right."

They sat in silence for awhile; the only audible noise was the clock ticking in the background. Both of them were aware that they were entirely too comfortable around each other. Finally, Sakura opened her eyes, although she kept her head tilted back. "You know..." she trailed off.

He glanced over, not changing his posture. "Hm?"

Sakura stared up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating. And then, quietly, she said, "I really am sorry."

At that, Syaoran was a bit startled; it was a very sudden statement. And to hear her say it in such a vulnerable state only made the apology sound even more sincere. But he knew better. It had been difficult all his life for him to trust anyone, and this was no different—he _had_ trusted Sakura, but since she'd lost his trust, he wasn't quite keen on giving it back.

"Don't think this means we're friends again," he muttered. "I'm only doing this for you because it's what any decent person would do."

Sakura didn't say anything; she merely bit her lip and closed her eyes again.

Syaoran watched her carefully, looking for tears—he'd made that come out a bit more harshly than he'd meant to. But instead, to his surprise, she smiled—crookedly, of course, but all the same, he found it odd and rather unsettling.

She spoke again, louder than she had before. "I know. But I just figured...after all of that...the least I could do is say sorry." She finally lifted her head off of the sofa, although it looked as though it cost a great deal of effort, and she looked at him, the crooked, fake smile still in place. "I said it last time, you know...but what with all the craziness, I only whispered it, and you hadn't heard it."

Syaoran stared back at her for a moment, baffled by her behavior—he couldn't process it. He wanted to be angry at her; it was such an easy outlet for all of the crazy, nonsensical emotions he felt at the moment. But it was difficult when the enemy was trying to play nice. He was more mad at himself, really—he was the one who'd gotten himself into this situation. He'd been doing so well, too... Perhaps he was more soft than he'd have liked to admit.

"I'm leaving after the food comes," he managed to get out after awhile.

Sakura nodded. "I suppose that'd be for the best."

Just then, the doorbell rang, and Syaoran got up to get it.

Sakura watched him walk away with heavy eyes, clenching her teeth and fighting back tears. She was proud of herself for doing this well in front of him; she was dimly aware that this feat was even more incredible—for her, anyway—particularly because of her fevered state. Even though she didn't show it, it had hurt, what he'd said. It was only the truth, but it was so painful—even thinking about it still caused a dull pain in her chest. Hearing him say it out loud made her feel as though someone was stabbing her repeatedly.

He came back with nothing in hand. "The food's on the kitchen table," he explained. "Make sure you eat, okay? I ordered soup. It'd be good for you to try and get all of it down."

Sakura nodded. "Right. Thanks."

He shifted from one foot to the other. "Well...I guess I'm gonna go now."

"Oh, right. Let me see you out," Sakura said, standing up. But at that moment, she felt incredibly dizzy, and she suddenly felt herself tipping over to the left.

Syaoran was at her side immediately.

He stood her up, his arms still around her. "You all right?" He couldn't mask the concern in his voice this time around.

And Sakura knew that the best thing to do would have been to pull away. But instead, on instinct, she settled into his hold, shivering as she buried her face into his chest. She wished her nose wasn't stuffy so that she could breathe his scent while she had the chance; she'd missed it. "You're so warm," she mumbled.

Too stunned to hold back on his own instincts, Syaoran found himself putting his arms around her and pulling her closer. His chin rested on her head as he chastised himself all the while. It was entirely too easy to get lost in these feelings again. "What am I going to do with you?"

They stood like that for awhile, until finally, Syaoran held her back by the shoulders, examining her with a critical eye. She had seemed to grow worse since the walk home—her breathing was slow and somewhat labored, and her eyes were even dimmer and more feverish than before. He sat her gently back down on the sofa.

"I'm calling a doctor."

Sakura's eyes widened for a moment, and then she shook her head with as much vigor as she could muster. "No! No doctors."

"Why not?"

"I have bad experiences with doctors. I'll be okay. I just need to eat and sleep."

"Sakura, you look awful. I don't care if you're scared of doctors, you need one."

"Syaoran, please," she begged. "I don't need a doctor. I'll be fine."

He sighed. _Those damned eyes of hers. _"Let me just call one and see what he says, okay?"

Sakura bit her lip, but she nodded.

"Lie down and get some sleep. I'll be back in a second."

* * *

"She'll need to take two of those pills every six hours," the doctor said, handing Syaoran a note with a prescription on it. "And she needs to take them until the bottle is empty. Call me today if her condition worsens, and call me tomorrow, regardless of her condition."

"Thank you so much," Syaoran said, opening the door for the doctor and bidding him farewell.

Syaoran climbed back up the staircase and into Sakura's room, sitting down in the chair by her bed. She lay curled up on her side, her eyes open. "Thanks...for asking the doctor over. I know I was just being silly."

"You should really get some rest," he said, frowning.

"I can't sleep," she mumbled back, not looking at him.

"Why not?"

"I have nightmares when I get sick."

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "So you'd rather get sicker than rest and face a couple of dumb bad dreams?"

Sakura nodded.

"You're ridiculous. I'm going to blame some of that on your fever." He sighed. "You're the only person I know who's ever gotten so sick in such a short period of time. What happened to you?"

In her fevered state, Sakura felt as though she had little control of her mind and her body. The things she normally would have kept hidden came spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "There's a theory that sad people get sicker more easily."

Syaoran frowned at that, but he didn't say anything. _Sad?_ She wasn't trying to guilt trip him, was she? He brushed it off. "You should take better care of yourself, you know." He reached over and placed a hand on her forehead. She was burning to the touch. "I hate to leave you by yourself, but I need to go down the street and get this medicine for you. Think you'll be all right for a few minutes?" He stood up, pulling his coat on and picking up the prescription on the table.

"I'm not a baby," she replied, scowling.

"Yeah, well, you sure couldn't take care of yourself enough to stay well."

"Hey, that's not fair! There's been a bug going around school. And besides, I haven't gotten sick in years. Anyway, what about the medicine I got at the grocery store?"

"First of all, this is worse than the bug that's been going around. And second of all, because this is worse, that medicine isn't really going to help you get better quickly." His voice softened a bit. "You're really sick. I'm kind of worried. I don't want you to get any sicker, okay?"

Sakura stared at him, shocked. _Maybe this is just some kind of hallucination._ If it was, she liked it, and she wasn't going to go against it. "Okay."

Syaoran sat down for a moment, and very hesitantly, he wrapped her blanket around her more tightly, putting his arms around her briefly in the process. "Stay warm," he murmured. "And don't open the door for anyone but me." He got up. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Sakura watched him as he left the room, then through the window as he walked down the street. _I'm too sick to comprehend this. Why couldn't it have happened to me when I was well? Then I could probably understand or figure out why he's acting like this..._

* * *

As Syaoran headed back to Sakura's house from the drugstore, her prescription in hand, he wondered to himself for what seemed like the thousandth time what had gotten into him. He'd done perfectly fine seeing her at school every day, ignoring her even when she'd attempted to speak to him; and yet, when he'd seen her across the street at a safe distance and she didn't even notice him, he'd been drawn to her.

He sighed. His mind worked in awfully strange ways; this wasn't the first time it had sabotaged him, especially in regard to Sakura. After dropping of the medicine, he would go home and forget that his had all happened. It wouldn't be that hard, right? He had an entire weekend to do it.

Stepping into Sakura's house and making his way to her room, Syaoran saw that she had fallen asleep. _I guess the nightmares can't be that bad, _he thought. He set the bottle of pills on her nightstand and gazed at her. It was so odd; when he wasn't around her, all he could think about was what she had done to him; but now that she was right in front of him, nothing seemed all that bad—

_What am I thinking? Snap out of it, Syaoran._ Making a face, he glanced down at Sakura one last time. "This was...interesting," he said softly, and he rumpled her hair and turned around to leave.

"Syaoran?"

He stopped and turned around. "Hey," he said quietly. "I was about to go. Your medicine's on the nightstand."

Sakura sat up slowly, leaning her weight back on her hands. "You're going?"

"Yeah, don't worry about seeing me out or anything. Go back to sleep." _I have to get out of here..._

Sakura bit her lip. "I, uh..."

"What is it?" he said, frowning. "Do you need anything?"

Sakura sighed. _I need you to stay._ But how could she ask such a thing, when she had absolutely no right to? "Thanks."

Syaoran nodded. "No problem. I'll, uh...see you Monday. Hope you feel—"

"Could you stay?"

His breath hitched. There was silence as he watched Sakura curl herself into a ball, never looking at him as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

"I—I know I'm out of line. I can't...I can't expect you to do anything," she said, her voice quiet. "But I don't feel like being alone."

And of course, more of him wanted to stay. Syaoran clenched his fists, hoping that he could dredge up the willpower to say no...

"All right. But just for a little while, okay?"

* * *

Syaoran woke up to darkness, and he blearily searched around for a light. Finding a lamp nearby, he switched it on, and he sat up. He cursed to himself; he had fallen asleep—in Sakura's bed, no less. When had that happened?

He looked down at Sakura, who slept with her brow furrowed. Reaching down to touch her forehead, he sighed; it was still hot. He'd expected her fever to break by now.

After he'd decided to stay, he'd sat with Sakura in silence, feeling both frantic and uncomfortable. She'd fallen asleep relatively quickly, leaving him to drive himself mad with his own thoughts. He had considered leaving several times, but every time he thought about it, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

What was it, exactly, that kept him here? He kept telling himself over and over that she had hurt him. And that should have been enough to keep him away. But Eriol's words echoed over and over in his head, no matter how much he tried to shut them out—and he was so undeniably right. Sakura had gotten him to take a risk, and that was what had drawn him to her in the first place.

And the inevitable had happened—he had fallen in love. Why was it so hard to fall out of it? Perhaps because it was tougher to pick oneself up when one had the option to simply stay down and embrace it?

In the soft light of the lamp, Syaoran brushed back a few strands of Sakura's hair and examined her face. Her eyelashes were tipped with gold and her cheeks were slightly red from the fever. Beyond the dark circles underneath her closed eyes, Sakura looked, in spite of what she had done, just as pretty to him as she ever had. He scoffed to himself. Who'd ever have thought that he would fall for a girl whose beauty only he seemed to see?

Was it honestly better for him to stay away? It was so much easier not to...

_Goddamn it._

"I love you," he whispered, and although Sakura could not hear it, Syaoran knew that there was no going back. So what was he to do now?

* * *

That's it! I realize this chapter is a bit shorter in terms of pages than the usual one, but I'm pretty sure the word count is much higher. I also hope it was coherent; I wrote a lot of it in the early morning to deal with my recent bouts of insomnia, haha. I know it probably seems as though **Syaoran is running back to Sakura way too soon, but he's not getting back together with her—**he is just finally admitting out loud that he loves her. I also wrote in **Meiling's storyline to show the motives behind her behavior**, as Cikayelle pointed out that she deserves better as a character (and I agree!). Hopefully, **this makes her tougher to hate.** I also scanned this chapter relatively quickly for typos and plot holes, so if you spot any, please notify me! Anyway, I hope this chapter was satisfying in every way! Please leave a review!

Love,

boreum dal


	15. Ambiguous

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hello, everyone! Forgive me for the not-as-quick update, but I think I am still doing reasonably well compared to my past track record, haha. I am trying to write as much as I can before I start school, though, because God knows how much time I'll have then. Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews from the last chapter! Each of them really do mean a lot to me. I wish I had a better way to express my gratitude. You guys make me so happy :'D Anyway, here is the next chapter, so please enjoy!

**Chapter 15: **Ambiguous

Sakura had been right.

In her sickness, she could not sleep peacefully; she had nightmares of all kinds. There were ones that were blatantly frightening, filled with rotting flesh and zombies and pale, long-haired women with wide eyes and bloody lips. There were also more subtly scary ones—and yet, those were the eeriest. The one that particularly scared her the most consisted of her waking up to an empty house, only to see that the world outside her home had vanished, trapping her within the building forever. With nowhere to go and no one else around, she had felt indescribable loneliness; and all of a sudden, she had seen Syaoran reaching a hand out to her from just beyond her front door—but when she had tried to grab it, he'd vanished.

And these dreams came relentlessly, one after the other after the other. Sometimes, she was aware that she was dreaming and attempted to wake herself up to no avail; but in her exhausted mind, she would vaguely wonder whether reality was much better than these nightmares after all, and she'd drift off into another dream.

* * *

Syaoran watched silently as Sakura tossed and turned in her sleep. After he had woken up, he'd gotten himself out of her bed, called his mother to tell her he'd be spending the night at Eriol's, and then called Eriol to warn him. He had practically _heard_ Eriol raise his eyebrows when he explained the true situation, and he had detected the smugness in his friend's voice. And Syaoran couldn't even muster up the strength to protest that smugness, for he'd truly gone against everything he'd promised himself just moments before he'd made the phone call.

"_I love you," Syaoran whispered. He was surprised at how tenderly it had come out. _

_What was this power that Sakura had over him, even as she had done the most despicable thing to him? Her betrayal had hurt him like nothing else had—no physical pain he'd ever suffered could have compared—and yet, here he was, hovering over her and admiring her as she slept. _

_He did love her. There was no question to it. He'd never known love before, but the feeling was too strong to be anything else. And he'd read somewhere that love meant giving up oneself for the sake of that loved one. Why else would he risk his already fragile feelings by sitting here _voluntarily,_ caring for her, if he did not love her? _

_He'd tried to tell himself it was because he was a decent person who would not let an old friend try to fend for herself when she had fallen so ill. But of course the feelings ran deeper than that. He'd attempted to block out these emotions in the last few weeks, but just being in her presence was chiseling away profusely at that exterior he'd tried to build up around his heart. _

_The only problem was that she did not love him. She had certainly seemed to like him, but even that had turned out to be a hoax. At least she had shown some remorse—she'd apologized, and Syaoran had not spent his self-imposed solitude wracking his brain over the sadness in her eyes from that day for no reason, and she had asked him to stay with her—but those factors could be attributed to anything, from human decency to loneliness. He sorely doubted that any of these things were driven by love. _

_He wanted to leave and get away from this mind-boggling situation, in which for once, he truly had to sit down and ponder Sakura's feelings instead of assuming that she was the devil. He much preferred the latter—it was exceptionally easier to do. Would he just have to accept that he had let himself get dragged into unrequited love—by Sakura Kinomoto, of all people? _

_Did he love her enough to admit that?_

_Memories of the weeks Syaoran had spent with Sakura flashed through his mind, and he sighed. _

_Of course he did._

_He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. _You've made me so weak,_ he thought bitterly, and he wondered how someone who looked so angelic to him could cause such bitterness._

Glancing at the clock, he wondered if he should just head home and act as though he'd changed his mind about staying the night with Eriol. But after he'd gone through all of that trouble, using common decency as an excuse, wouldn't it seem very...well, _in_decent to just leave while Sakura slept? And slept restlessly, at that: perhaps she had been right; perhaps her illness was creating nightmares for her, for a permanent grimace had etched itself into her face as she slept. Cautiously, Syaoran reached over to lay a hand on her face again, wondering exactly how long it would take for her fever to go down. As of now, it seemed as though it hadn't changed much at all.

He sighed, frustrated at how this illness had clouded his judgment. If she weren't sick, Syaoran thought to himself, then he'd never have gotten himself into this mess. But he knew he was being foolish, grabbing at straws—how was it Sakura's fault that she'd gotten sick? She'd merely said that she had been sad. Syaoran scoffed. She'd gotten everything she had wanted. Maybe she was sad because it didn't completely turn out the way she had wanted it to; after all, she'd been caught. How long, he wondered, would she have let their charade of a relationship go on if Mai had not told him everything?

And how much could he trust Mai? Because there, Eriol was correct as well; it was very difficult to believe Mai entirely, as she did not have the best track record in honesty. Who was to blame, then? What was the real story—what was Mai leaving out or embellishing?

But even so, the basic truth of Mai's statement still cut him much more deeply than he'd have liked to admit; wouldn't he just be doing more harm to himself if he let Sakura in again?

Rather than providing answers, Syaoran's mind merely lingered upon each question for a few seconds before they dissolved, one by one, into the clutter of his thoughts.

Syaoran felt ridiculous, caught up in what felt like a situation drawn up only for the dramatic teen movies and books that he loathed. As lonely as his life before Sakura may have been, it sure had been much easier.

* * *

Drawing a deep breath, Tomoyo sat on her bed and stared at the cell phone she held in her hands. It was now or never: sick of reserving herself, making herself miserable for someone who apparently did not think it important to dedicate time to her anymore, she was going to call Ken and offer him the ultimatum of shaping up or breaking up. Odd as it sounded, her mother had provided her with the resolve to do so, as Tomoyo had poured her heart out to Sonomi over dinner. Ken did not deserve Tomoyo's attention and concern, Sonomi had said, if he was not going to put in the effort for it.

Tomoyo had not mentioned Eriol to her mother at all, though; part of her felt as though she wanted to break up with Ken for the wrong reasons. Was she any better than her boyfriend? Wasn't it worse, really, that she had fallen for Eriol while still in love with Ken? It wasn't as though she was going to make a move on Eriol just because she'd broken up with Ken. And besides, she reasoned to herself, she wouldn't have fallen so easily for Eriol if Ken had acted like a decent boyfriend...right?

"Right," she said, answering her own thoughts, and she pressed her speed dial number for Ken.

She didn't expect Ken to answer and planned on leaving him a voicemail; much to her surprise, she heard Ken pick up after three rings.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" he shouted into the phone. Tomoyo could hear loud music and much talking and noise in the background.

"Where are you?" she said, feeling silly as she shouted back.

"New club in Shibuya. A bunch of friends wanted to go, so I decided to tag along—hey, man, could you get me one of those drinks?" he muttered off to the side, just loud enough for Tomoyo to hear.

"A club?"

"Yeah, well, it's Friday night!"

The excitement in his voice made Tomoyo smile, and for a moment, she forgot that the excitement was not because of her, but moreso because she was gone. She felt her resolve flicker, and before she could control her mouth, she sighed, "I miss you."

"What was that?" Ken shouted.

Irritation began to poke its way back into Tomoyo's mind. "I miss you!"

"Oh, I miss you too, baby." Tomoyo heard him hold the phone away as he muttered something to someone else, and she was barely able to make out, "Yeah, I'll be off in a minute."

Her resolve came back full-force in an instant.

"Ken," she said, almost too quiet. "You don't miss me."

"What? Of course I miss you!"

"No, you don't. Because if you did, you would talk to me for a change."

"Baby, I'm at a _club—_what do you expect?" The frustration in his voice was beginning to show.

"Yeah, well, I'd have understood, but it's not _just_ when you're out partying. It's when you're at home, when you have nothing to do, and you'd _still_ rather not talk to me. I don't know—maybe I was just a bad girlfriend—but you don't miss me. At all."

The silence on the other end of the line, save for the background noises, was enough of an answer for Tomoyo.

"I can't keep going out with you." Surprisingly, it was easier than Tomoyo had expected, but she still felt the pangs in her chest.

"Y—you're serious?" Ken was barely shouting anymore.

"I am. I love you—loved you—enough to think this would work, Ken. But it's so fucking _exhausting_ when you don't love me back enough. We're done."

"But I do love you," Ken said, his voice suddenly very somber.

_Okay, so it's not easier than I expected,_ Tomoyo thought, the pain growing stronger. But she reminded herself that if she gave in, everything would be exactly the same the next morning; and so she pushed on. "You do," she agreed. "Just not enough."

"Tomoyo—"

"Please, don't make this harder. I'm sorry if I ruined any of your fun. I'll let you go, but I just wanted to let you know that we can—we can still try to be friends. I love you," she said, and her voice cracked. Tomoyo hung up before Ken could get in another word of protest, and she gave a great sob as she fell back onto her bed.

* * *

Sakura felt something cold press against her forehead, and she woke with a start. Dazedly, she stared up at Syaoran, who held a cold compress in his hand.

"Syaoran," she murmured. "You're still here." She struggled to collect her thoughts, but more immediately, she recognized how touched she felt. She looked around, remembering everything that had happened earlier in the day. It was late evening now; her room was bathed in lamplight, and she was wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants that she'd changed into earlier in the afternoon.

Syaoran wore an impassive look on his face as he held the compress to Sakura's forehead once more. "I didn't have anything better to do, and I still don't think you're well enough to handle yourself. Don't take it personally. I'm just being the good Samaritan." His eyes were dark, closed off—the fire in them was gone.

Sakura tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She was so bewildered, and her spinning head did not help matters much. He had been so kind earlier; and in spite of what he said, staying here this long with her was an act of kindness in itself. So why was he so different all of a sudden?

_Back to the mind games,_ she thought. It was almost as if she were starting over with him, except worse—this time, she was starting over with the worst impression possible. _But you deserve it,_ a little voice said in her head, and she shut her eyes to block it out.

Sakura tried to sit up and, much to her surprise, found it rather difficult. Her limbs felt rubbery and weak, and she felt as though a lead weight rested on her chest and shoulders. Nausea flooded through her system, and although her clothes stuck to her from her sweat, she felt extremely cold. She hadn't realized how exhausted she felt until she'd moved.

Suddenly, she felt a hand rest on the small of her back to help her up, and she looked at Syaoran bemusedly. He still wore that same closed-off look on his face, but how were his actions so sweet? She couldn't take this. She had taken care of herself before when she was sick; granted, she hadn't been alone in the house, but she would manage.

"You can go."

"What?"

"I said that you can go," Sakura said quietly. "I don't want to hold you here against your will. I'll be fine, I promise." She attempted to smile.

Syaoran looked at Sakura with an expression that she could not read, although she thought she detected surprise and perhaps irritation. Either way, it was better than the emotionless one he'd been wearing. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough. "I already made plans to stay here for the night. You'd be kicking me out with no place to go, you know."

"Well, I never asked you to stay the night!" Sakura said, her head aching a little as she raised her voice. She clutched it with her hands. "Why are you doing this to me? Is this punishment for what I did to you? I already accepted that you would never speak to me or look at me again, and now you're—you're here all of a sudden, taking care of me, of all things—" She knew it was a bad idea to utter this next part, but the thought only occurred to her as the words left her lips. "Do you know how hard it was to lose you the first time? It'll be even worse this time. I promise. And if this is your way of getting back at me, then so be it. But please, can you just go now? I've learned my lesson and I won't bother you anymore. So please, just stop making me feel like..." She trailed off, unable to say much more. Her chest was heaving. Spent, she lay back heavily and turned her back to Syaoran, hiding her tears.

For a minute that felt like an eternity, there was complete silence, save for the clock ticking on the wall—and then—

"Don't get yourself so worked up. You don't have the energy to spare for it," he said in a toneless voice. He knew he was disappointing her, but he found himself unable to say everything he wanted to say—because to say any of it would mean letting Sakura in again. He did not look at her, but rather at the clock on the wall, which read eleven o'clock."It's about time to take your medicine again, so good thing you got up. You haven't eaten anything yet, so I'll go heat up that soup."

Sakura made no response, nor did she turn around to face him. She shut her eyes and wiped the tears off her face, feeling foolish and weak.

When Syaoran returned, he was carrying a tray full of steaming soup that looked anything but appetizing to Sakura, who had lost her appetite along with her health.

"I'm not hungry."

"If you don't eat anything before you take your medicine, you'll probably just feel worse."

"I can take care of myself," Sakura muttered. "I've been sick before."

"Well, do you want to get sicker?" Syaoran's voice boomed. He had forgone the impassiveness and moved on to open frustration. "Would you quit being so goddamn stubborn and just do what I say? Christ, I try to do you a favor and you just—"

Without saying anything, Sakura sat herself up and took the tray out of Syaoran's hands. She didn't look at him as she began to spoon soup into her mouth.

Syaoran stared at her, surprised. _I don't understand why she always says I'm confusing, considering how she's the most unpredictable girl on this planet,_ he thought as he watched her eat.

When she was done, Sakura handed her tray back to Syaoran and mumbled her thanks, and before he could reach over for the medicine, Sakura grabbed it first. Wincing as the pills made their way down her swollen throat, Sakura lay back down and sighed.

"I know I'm being ungrateful. I'm sorry. I just—" she glanced up at him, somewhat frightened— "I just feel like I don't...deserve any of this."

Syaoran raised his eyebrows, but beyond that, he might as well have not heard her. He did not respond. Instead, he lay the cold compress on her burning forehead, and he looked at her with an unrecognizable emotion on his face. "Go to sleep."

* * *

As he listened to Sakura's soft breathing, Syaoran looked around her room, observing it carefully for the first time. How funny it was that the first time he had ever set foot in her room had been _after_ they'd broken up, he thought.

In essence, much like her home compared to his, her room was the opposite of his room. Bright and cozy, it was fairly small, but made so warm by its accents that its size did not matter. The walls were white with pink trim, and the shelves hanging off the walls were scattered with dried cherry blossoms. Beside the door were a small wooden bookcase and a wooden desk, which was scattered with knickknacks, textbooks, and pens and pencils; an old portable stereo sat in the corner of the desk. The picture he had drawn her had been framed and hung on the wall beside the desk. The bed Sakura was sleeping in sat in the far left corner of the room, beside a large window. A dresser was only a few steps across the room from the bed, and a mirror adorned with wooden teddy bears hung above it. He noticed the bear he had given her sitting on the dresser, and he bit back a smile when he saw that she had placed his beanie on the head of the teddy bear.

He looked at Sakura's sleeping figure, and so far, she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. What was real and what was fake? If he truly didn't mean anything to her beyond bragging rights, then why had she taken the time to frame his picture and hang it? Why had she kept his bear? Were they trophies, or were they truly treasured objects?

The more Syaoran thought about it, the more confused he felt. He hated how complicated this had gotten; it was easier, he thought, when Sakura had simply been the bad guy.

He looked once more at the bear, which seemed to stare at him quizzically, not unlike the way Sakura had been doing all night. It had taken all his willpower not to let down his barriers. How much longer would he last?

* * *

When Sakura awoke the next morning, she became aware of several different things all at once. For one thing, Syaoran had, at some point in the night, climbed into the bed beside her and fallen asleep, and now his arm was draped across her stomach. For another thing, she felt ten times better—her head still spun a bit, but the heavy feeling in her chest was gone, along with the nausea. She was no longer freezing, but rather pleasantly warm. And finally, she realized something had been very peculiar about all the times she'd awoken throughout the night.

There had been several instances in which she'd woken up—at one point, a fit of coughing had roused her out of her sleep, and another time, she'd been startled awake by a particularly frightening dream. Another time, Syaoran had woken her to take her temperature and give her another dose of her medicine. So what had been so weird about them?

Sakura looked over at Syaoran, and with a shock, she realized what it was. Each time she'd awoken, he had been the polar opposite of what he'd been like earlier in the evening, when she had been fully conscious. He hadn't been cold and withdrawn, but rather, he had worn a concerned look on his face, his brows permanently furrowed. It was all somewhat vague and fuzzy, as Sakura had only woken for a few minutes before falling back asleep each time; but she was sure she hadn't imagined it.

Another memory, though, she wasn't as sure about. It felt much more like a dream than it did reality, not only because of the haziness of it, but also because of its probability: the instance in which she'd woken up because of the bad dream, she had apparently shown it, because Syaoran had held her close and whispered soothing words into her hair until she fell asleep again.

Sakura shook her head. It was impossible. She _must _have dreamed that one up—a counter for all the bad dreams she'd had through the night. It had been so vivid, though; she remembered feeling his breath tickle her ear as he'd spoken to her, the tenderness in his voice, the warmth of his arms, and most of all, her immense surprise as he had done all these things.

But what was the likelihood of any of that actually happening? Slim to none, she figured. She would have to settle for the concern on his face as she'd slept—and really, that was enough for her, as she had felt as though she'd been starving without Syaoran's affections.

Gingerly, Sakura took Syaoran's arm off of her and headed downstairs to the kitchen to get some water; she had only just realized how parched her throat was.

Carefully making her way down the staircase—the dizziness was still there—Sakura wondered what exactly was going to happen when Syaoran woke up. Would it be awkward? Most likely. The combination of her fever and Syaoran's being there had toyed with her emotions, and she hadn't thought to control much of what she had wanted to say the night before. Still, as close as she had come to admitting that she loved him, she was proud of herself for not full-out begging for him to give her a second chance, to let her prove that he really did mean more to her than the bet; for that was what she had truly wanted to do.

Sakura drained her first glass of water and poured herself another glass before sitting down at the kitchen table, still tired. She glanced at the clock—it was only eight in the morning—perhaps she would go back to sleep after Syaoran left...

"Sakura," she heard, and she looked up to see Syaoran standing there, his hair even messier than usual and circles under his eyes. Sakura felt a rush of appreciation and guilt; he had stayed up most of the night for her, she realized.

A look of relief crossed his face for a moment, and he walked over and sat down across the table from her. "You're well," he observed.

Sakura nodded. "Well enough," she said, and she smiled in thanks.

He reached over and touched her forehead once more, and he seemed to nod to himself. "Better. But I'd stay home today if I were you, unless you want to go through that again."

"Thanks, doctor," Sakura said, joking before she could catch herself, and an awkward moment passed where Syaoran did not laugh the way he would have done weeks ago. Sakura cleared her throat. "Some of the things I said last night..." She trailed off, wondering if she should continue.

"What?" Syaoran frowned. He'd hoped that the morning would be free of anything dramatic.

"Nothing," Sakura mumbled, and she ignored the frustrated look on Syaoran's face. "Thank you for taking care of me," she said, and she meant it. "I know I said I could take care of myself, but...it would have been awfully hard without you."

To Sakura's surprise, Syaoran frowned, and his brows furrowed once more. "I...was worried," he admitted softly, and he looked off to the side to avoid Sakura's gaze. "Your fever went up while you were sleeping last night. And it was already pretty high to begin with, you know." He'd thought about calling the doctor again, but to his relief, the next time he'd checked her temperature, it had gone back down.

Sakura was touched; the concerned look he'd worn on his face all night swam in her mind again. "Well...thank you," she mumbled.

He seemed to recognize the look on her face, and his own expression quickly hardened. "Don't take it personally or anything. Like I said, I'm just being a good person. When we go back to school, none of this will ever have happened, and things go back to normal, got it?"

Sakura bit her lip, but she nodded. In her weeks of no contact with him, her armor had altogether vanished; in a situation like this, she was all too vulnerable, and she tried not to let it show.

"Anyway, I'm leaving. I, uh...I've gotta go train." He stood up, about to go, until he stopped and launched into a sudden list of commands, startling Sakura. "The rest of the food is in the refrigerator. You should eat it today. I left the number for the doctor by your telephone, and you need to give him a call later to tell him how you're doing. Take your medicine after I leave, and take it every six hours until the bottle's empty. Don't do anything too strenuous today, or you'll just get sicker." He seemed to be counting everything back in his head, checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten to tell her anything. He hesitated before he spoke again. "If you need anything...you can call—"

"I'll call Tomoyo," Sakura said, and she smiled. Syaoran spotted it as a fake instantly. "Don't worry about me, okay?"

Syaoran stared at her for a moment, and then he nodded. "Right. Well, I guess I'm going..." He waved awkwardly. "Bye."

"Bye," Sakura said, and she watched him walk out the front door.

How come he made it so hard? Wavering between caring and not caring, Syaoran had taken Sakura on something of a goose chase, throwing her off and then pulling her back in over and over again. She felt tears brim her eyes as she remembered her dream, his holding her and whispering into her hair. She only wished that was real—because if it was, then she wouldn't have needed any other confirmation of whether or not he cared; she'd have known outright. And she would have told him without hesitation that she loved him, that the bet did not matter.

* * *

"You know, a lot of this is your fault."

"_My _fault?" Syaoran said incredulously, and he watched Yamazaki flinch.

After Syaoran had gone home, he'd called Eriol, who was busy training, and then he'd called Yamazaki, who'd initially refused to come over because he was busy building his Gundam model. When Syaoran bribed him with food, however, Yamazaki had decided to set down the model and head over. They were now sitting in Syaoran's dark bedroom, Syaoran listlessly flipping through a book and Yamazaki munching happily on cupcakes that Wei had made expressly for him. (Syaoran had turned his face away in disgust when Yamazaki had offered him one.)

"Don't hit me," Yamazaki replied, holding his hands up over his head and making a face. "But it's true."

Syaoran clenched his jaw, and then he sat on his hands to prevent himself from hitting Yamazaki—it had become a reflex over the years. "Explain."

"Well, you never even bothered to find out the real story, first of all. Eriol was right. Mai is bound to have made some of it up, and even if she didn't, it's important to get your story from several different sides—Sakura's included. And secondly, you're the one exposing yourself to her like that. No one asked you to take care of her. She sure didn't. And she even offered to let you go! So why are you sitting here, complaining about her, if you didn't even bother to take that opportunity?" Yamazaki bit into his fourth cupcake and chewed thoughtfully before continuing. "I think you're just frustrated with yourself because you want her back and it's harder to resist than you thought."

Syaoran watched Yamazaki lick frosting off of his lips with disgust. "How are you not fat?"

Yamazaki shrugged.

"Anyway, you're wrong," Syaoran muttered. "I want the person I _thought_ she was back, but apparently, that doesn't exist."

"I don't know. It doesn't seem like she was faking a lot of it to me. Sure, she _started_ that relationship with you based on a bet, but I think the rest of it was all her. She seemed to like you a lot. She must be a great actress if all of that was fake."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to take my chances again." Syaoran set the book down on the coffee table and walked over to the window. The lawn was dead from the cold of the winter.

Yamazaki shrugged again. "Suit yourself. So what are you gonna do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, about other girls."

Since Syaoran had become single, girls had not hesitated to continue what they'd started before he had dated Sakura, asking him out, and nowadays, he rejected them even more coldly than before.

"Not interested," Syaoran muttered, turning around to face Yamazaki.

Yamazaki could see the wounded pride on Syaoran's face, and he pursed his lips. "You've gotten worse at hiding your emotions."

"What?"

"I can read you like, seventy-five percent of the time now. Before, it was probably fifty."

"Before _what_?" Syaoran said, narrowing his eyes.

"Before Sakura, duh." Yamazaki flinched again, but he opened his eyes when he realized Syaoran had not hit him yet. Instead, he watched as Syaoran sat himself down heavily on the sofa, his eyes looking fixedly at nothing in particular.

"You're right," he said incredulously. Clow Reed had mentioned something similar a few weeks back, but Syaoran hadn't particularly paid attention; the statement was coming back now: _"You would've won first place in all of your divisions at that tournament if you'd been stoic enough. Your opponent sensed weakness in you. I never thought I would have to remind you to keep your emotions behind your face, not on it."_

"Great," Syaoran muttered. "Yet another thing I can thank Sakura for."

"I think it's a good thing. It makes you more human, less robot," he said, and he grinned. "Ow!" he yelped, but good-naturedly, as Syaoran finally slapped the back of his head. Yamazaki was aware that he'd been making one too many wisecracks, and if he went an entire afternoon without getting hit, he had planned on calling the police to report an impostor in Syaoran's home.

* * *

Sakura awoke as the doorbell rang. Rubbing her eyes as she sat up, she looked at the clock to see that she'd slept for another two hours—it was 10:30.

Tomoyo stood grinning in the doorway, holding a stack of movies and a box—presumably filled with the soup and medicine that she had promised. "Sakura! You look a little better," she said, noting the color in her cousin's face as she made her way into the living room.

"Yeah, uh...about that—" Sakura mumbled.

"Wait, before you say anything—I have so much to tell you." And Tomoyo sat down on the sofa tiredly, explaining the situation between her and Ken so quickly that Sakura had to ask her to start over several times before finally understanding what had occurred.

"Yep, I did it," Tomoyo sighed, answering the awed expression on Sakura's face.

"But you said he was perfect a couple months ago! I don't get it—"

"Well, he _was_," Tomoyo said, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger idly. "Until he decided he'd rather play around all the time instead of spending some time and effort on me. A relationship is too much work for one person. Both people have to try, you know?" She shrugged, but almost immediately after, her face crumpled and she broke into sobs, leaving Sakura briefly stunned and clueless all at once.

"Oh, Tomoyo, it's okay!" Sakura said, rubbing her cousin's back. She didn't quite know what to do to make her feel better; Sakura's own breakup had been so odd that she couldn't really use it as experience. "It'll be okay," she cooed. "There are plenty of other guys—there's Eriol—"

The name sent Tomoyo into near hysterics, and Sakura tried to backtrack, her eyes wide. What had she done wrong?

"I think I like him," Tomoyo managed to get out, and she gulped. "I loved Ken, but he wasn't there—and Eriol was—so I think I like him! And it's so unfair to both of them, but what am I supposed to do?"

Sakura bit her lip. "I—I'm not sure," she admitted, but she hugged Tomoyo until she had calmed down.

"I'm not going to try anything with Eriol," Tomoyo said, shaking her head. "It's not fair to him."

"That's so...noble of you," Sakura breathed. "I'm proud of you."

Tomoyo gave a watery smile. "It'll be hard, though."

Sakura nodded. "Trust me. I know it."

"So, uh," Tomoyo said, blushing as she wiped her eyes, "what were you going to say before?"

"Oh," Sakura said, startled by the sudden change in the subject. "Er...well, the reason I'm better is that...Syaoran took care of me all night," she said, mumbling the last part.

"_What?_"

Sakura smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I know. It was weird."

"_'It was weird?'_ That's _all_ you have to say about it? Sakura, that's MONUMENTAL!" Tomoyo looked insane, raising her voice and raising her arms as if to demonstrate just how "monumental" it was.

"Tomoyo, calm down! It was a big deal, yeah...but to him, it basically never happened." Sakura explained the situation to Tomoyo, whose frown seemed to grow deeper with each sentence.

"Oh, not this again. This roller coaster thing? I thought that stopped with the relationship. In fact, I thought that stopped about a week or two into the relationship," Tomoyo said. "He can't just take care of you and say that he _doesn't_ care. That's...paradoxical."

"Er...yeah," Sakura said, smiling at her cousin's obvious concern. "I hated it and loved it at the same time. It's weird, because when I was only semi-conscious, he was actually really nice to me. Or...well, it looked like he cared a lot."

"Of _course_ he cared a lot, Sakura, because if he was willing to take care of you, he probably still likes you!"

"Tomoyo, please. Don't get my hopes up."

"I'm serious! Why else would he do it?"

"Because he's a good guy?" Sakura said, trying not to listen to Tomoyo. She couldn't afford this kind of wild hope; it would just make things harder.

"No guy is that good, okay? No offense, but you probably really hurt him. Either he's a glutton for punishment, or he still likes you enough that he's willing to overlook that."

"Whatever," Sakura responded weakly, trying to chase the thought out of her mind. "Although, I did have this dream about him while I slept...I was scared—from a bad dream, I think—and he kind of held me and made me feel better until I fell asleep again. You know, one of those false-awakening dreams? Except it was a really good one."

Tomoyo said nothing, but looked at Sakura with a look of pity on her face.

Sakura squirmed uncomfortably. "It was tough to be around him. I really wanted to tell him the truth, you know?"

"So why didn't you?"

"He'd never believe me," Sakura said quietly. "Besides, even if he did, it wouldn't be fair to him. He should be with someone he wants, not someone he feels sorry for."

"Sakura..."

"Let's just...drop it for awhile," Sakura said, although she knew she was the one who'd started the conversation. "So, what movies did you bring?"

* * *

"But—Father—" Meiling stood in her father's office, trying with little yield to conceal her dismay: her father had announced that, for the time being, Ryuji Fuukawa, the new assistant he'd introduced just the day before, would be moving into the house.

"No 'but's, Meiling. He's been helping me so much with this case, it's the least I can do to repay him. You need to try to understand his situation." Her father's face was compassionate.

Meiling snorted, but she knew he was right—Ryuji was in a bit of a dire position, and it had admittedly made Meiling feel something more than loathing, for once, for one of his father's assistants; it had made her feel pity.

Ryuji had gotten a job right out of college—a very good job, but a position that required hard work, nonetheless—not only to add to his resumé, but also to support his widowed, aging mother, who'd been diagnosed with severe Alzheimer's. He could not stay at home and care for her while attending school, so he had arranged for her to live in a nursing home for the time being. However, it was costly, and Ryuji's rent fee was valuable money that could have gone towards his mother every month. According to Meiling's father, Ryuji had not mentioned this at all to him; rather, Meiling's father had looked into this himself, and he'd decided that Ryuji could stay with him for awhile. There were plenty of spare rooms in his home.

It was the traditional sob story with a modern twist, Meiling thought cynically, but nonetheless, she felt his pain. It had been very hard to lose her mother, and while Alzheimer's was a bit different, it was almost worse—it was like losing someone in an agonizingly slow manner. She did not wish that kind of pain on any person; and since his mother was a widow, Meiling figured he had already experienced that pain once. Still, that her father had only known this boy for so long and still seemed to love him more than his own daughter remained a dominant idea in her mind, and it seemed to reduce Meiling's own compassion. On top of that, the look in Ryuji's eyes as he'd checked her out the day before played through her head over and over, and it pushed her over the edge.

"Why can't he support himself? He was rich enough to get through Tokyo University and now to a 'good business school,'" she spat, echoing her father's words.

Meiling's father stood up and slammed his hands down on his desk. "They were _scholarships,_ Meiling, because he did so well in school! He graduated a year early, you know. You could take a page out of his book. Now, I won't have any more this protesting. He is moving in here tonight, and that's final, whether you like that or not."

Meiling narrowed her ruby eyes at her father, feeling her heart race with anger. He didn't even realize how well _she _did in school. _Whether I like it or not,_ she thought in disgust. "As always, Father," she said softly, venomously.

He did not seem to get the hint. "Wash up for lunch," he said, sitting back down and looking flustered.

Meiling left the office without another word.

* * *

Later that evening, Meiling walked upstairs to her bedroom, and she was surprised to find Ryuji, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, carrying boxes into the room down the hall. She hadn't expected him to move in so early. She glared at him as he looked over in mutual surprise. Now that he was dressed like a normal civilian, it was easier to notice his features and ignore the typical dronelike look of her father's assistant that he wore while in a suit. His black hair was no longer slicked back, but rather lying flat in a floppy mop; tall and of a strong build but dressed far too casually, he looked like he was in the stage between college frat boy and grown man. His eyes were dark brown, and he was not unattractive; Meiling might have appreciated his looks more if she did not despise him.

He set down the box he was holding and heaved a sigh. Walking over to Meiling, he held his hand out to shake, choosing to ignore her glare. "I know your father introduced us yesterday, but I think it'd be rude not to introduce myself. I'm Ryuji—"

"I know who you are," Meiling said, her voice icy, and when Ryuji realized that she wasn't going to shake his hand, he withdrew it. "Don't think you're welcome here just because my father invited you in. He has been through plenty of guys like you, overly ambitious and greedy and perverted to a tee. Yeah, that's right, perverted," Meiling said, smirking as she read the look on his face. "Don't think I didn't see you looking at me yesterday. And once my father is through with you, he'll throw you away just like he did every other assistant he's ever had. So don't think you're special because you get to move in here, and _don't_ think that we'll be friends. Because as far as I'm concerned," she said, her glare intensifying, "you do not exist."

Ryuji raised a brow, silent for a moment. Meiling smirked, thinking she'd won, when all of a sudden, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"With all the money your father has, you'd think he could buy you a therapist. Although, I don't know if a therapist will help you pull that stick out of your ass."

Meiling's eyes widened, and she was struck speechless. Used to being worshiped by her peers or ignored by her father, no one had actually ever spoken to her so rudely. Her voice dripped with hatred as she responded. "If you think you can get away with saying things like that—"

"Oh, but I can," Ryuji said, an amused look on his face. "Because if it's a war you want, I'm not the type to just sit back and wait for it to be over." He stepped closer to her, and Meiling only just seemed to realize how tall he really was; she had to look up at him. "I'm the type who fights until he wins."

Leaving Meiling too stunned to say another word, he began to walk back down the hall to his boxes. "Oh, and by the way," he said, stopping and turning around, "I wasn't checking you out yesterday. I was wondering how the hell your father was going to let you out of the house in that outfit of yours—anyone could practically see up your skirt. You're what, sixteen? I don't scam on little girls who are four years younger than me," he said, rolling his eyes, and he walked off.

"I'm seventeen," Meiling mumbled, but he was too far away to hear her now. Dazed, she stumbled into her bedroom, wondering what on earth had just occurred—no one had ever beat her at her own game before.

* * *

Syaoran sweated profusely as he punched and kicked at the air, battling an imaginary opponent. Since Yamazaki had left that afternoon, Syaoran had been practicing all day on and off, and somehow, in spite of his tiredness, he only felt as though he wanted to practice even more. He wanted to become so exhausted that he would stop thinking about her, that he would fall into a dreamless sleep where he could not dream about her.

Was this what his life had come to? His once well-organized, carefully laid-out life, which had consisted of his family, his best friends, his schoolwork, and his martial arts, had turned into a chaotic mixture of frustration, fury, disappointment, love, and trust, all moving around him furiously like a tornado; and in the center of it stood Sakura Kinomoto.

How had she done this to him? From the beginning, she had never seemed all that remarkable. And even after she had made her way into his heart and proven that she _was_ remarkable, she had gone and ruined it. None of it was real, he had figured; all that he had found remarkable had been a very well put-together facade. So what was it, then, that kept drawing him in? Why had his life revolved around her for this long?

Deep in his heart, Syaoran knew the answer, but he didn't want it to be the answer. He wanted something more practical, something more reasonable, because up until Sakura had entered the picture, that was what his life had always been—practical and reasonable. But like Sakura, his life no longer made any sort of sense, and neither did the answer that he already knew.

He was drawn in because he loved her. And he loved her still, in spite of everything that had happened between them, because somewhere in the deepest, most abandoned corners of his mind and his heart, he hoped against hope that the Sakura he had known throughout December was the real Sakura.

Given the situation, he knew it was unlikely. But the signs he had seen didn't help his determination to fall _out_ of love with Sakura. All day, images of Syaoran the bear sitting on her dresser, Syaoran's beanie on its head, and the his picture hanging up on the wall had flickered in his mind's eye. And the way Sakura had reacted to him as he'd taken care of her—she had protested a few times, but she'd only done so for his benefit, it seemed. Otherwise, she seemed to have embraced his company. But perhaps that was merely because she was lonely and ill and wanted someone to take care of her, no matter how much she had protested otherwise? Her reactions had almost made him think that she did indeed still like him.

How, though, was that supposed to be enough when she had done so much to betray his trust? Of all things, she had taken a bet with a girl whom Syaoran despised for her pointless meddling in other people's lives, and Sakura had done it for no noble cause, but to prove that she was capable of doing such a thing—capable, in all actuality, of cruelty. No matter how sorry she was or how much she liked him now, how was Syaoran going to ever get over the magnitude of what she had done?

_You sure didn't seem to mind last night,_ a voice said in Syaoran's head, and he put even more force into his kicks, trying to rid himself of the voice.

Eventually, he gave up and lay down on the cool marble platform, sweat pouring from his body, his breaths short and deep as he attempted to get oxygen through his system. The voice, no matter how much he ignored it, was right. For not only had he confessed to an unconscious Sakura that he loved her, but on top of that, he had done something that night that his mind had told him _not_ to do, but his body and heart had decided to do anyway.

_Syaoran woke from his half-asleep state in his chair, and he looked tiredly at the clock. It was three in the morning now, and he wanted to go home; Wei would cover for him if he tried to sneak back in his house, wouldn't he? _

_Suddenly, he heard Sakura whisper his name, and he turned around, thinking she'd woken. Surprised, he realized that she was still asleep, but now, she was thrashing wildly, reaching for something that wasn't there. Unsure of what to do, Syaoran grabbed one of her outstretched hands and held it in his lap, and Sakura awoke with a start and sat up, her breathing heavy and her eyes filled with panic._

"_Syaoran," she murmured upon seeing him, relief crossing her face, and before either of them saw it coming, Sakura suddenly burst into tears, sobbing unabashedly. _

_Syaoran didn't know what to do; he pitied her, but he did not want to invite affection by attempting to calm her down. Was he being selfish? However, he couldn't hide the concern in his voice as told her that it was only a dream._

_Sakura shook her head, trying to wipe her eyes to stop her tears, and between her short little gasps of breath, Syaoran heard his name once more._

_And while he knew that what he wanted to do was ultimately the worst thing he could do for himself, that it would uproot his cause entirely, in that moment, he did not care. Syaoran pulled Sakura into his arms and held her tightly, quietly telling her that whatever was bothering was gone now and that it had all been just a dream, until her breathing returned to a normal pace and her tears stopped and she fell asleep once more. Her body had been so warm in his arms, although she had shivered uncontrollably. And it seemed as though his own body had missed hers sorely, for when he held her, some part of him rejoiced. After she had fallen asleep, he set her back down in her bed, and he tried to forget how good it had felt to hold her._

_The next morning, Sakura did not seem to remember. Syaoran chose not to mention it._

* * *

The end! Once again, I am posting this in a hurry, so I went through and edited what I could; but if you spot any plot holes, grammatical errors, the like, please point them out! :) That said, I'm not sure how much I like this chapter. I love some parts of it, but others, I'm not that fond of. **For those of you craving more fluff, here it is in bulk**; enjoy it, because it will be sparse and probably a lot subtler for the next chapter or two, haha. And **as for Meiling's storyline, I wasn't really going to continue it—I had originally intended on leaving that one bit in the last chapter as an explanation for her actions; but I thought it would be fun to give her a dose of her own medicine. **I'm already liking the banter between her and Ryuji, because it seems to come naturally when I write it; hopefully, it'll be just as easy in the next few chapters! Also, **I know the end of the chapter was an odd place to stop**, but I thought it'd be a more interesting way to end than I had originally planned. Anyway, I would love to hear what you guys thought, so please review! Thank you so much for reading!

Love,

boreum dal


	16. Inside

Fuaki Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everyone. Okay. -deep breath- I am so, so, so sorry. I know it's been almost a year since I've updated, but I do have decent excuses. For one, this year was my first year of college. It was both amazing and very difficult, and it took a lot of adjustment. I found that my days became so busy that I barely had time to do my homework, let alone write for free time. Secondly, I went through a really tough breakup with someone I had been dating for almost two years, and it has literally taken me all year to get back up on my feet. Writing was one of the last things on my mind, as unhealthy as that is. But! I am okay now, and really, the whole experience has made me way more mature and given me a lot of experience to draw from. I even used some of it for this chapter! So I hope that this is satisfactory, and I hope that anyone who has stuck around this long will enjoy it. Thanks so much. I love you all.

**Chapter 16: Inside**

Sakura walked into school that Monday feeling thankful that the events of the weekend had not somehow gotten out to the rest of the school. As a naturally shy person, she had not particularly appreciated being a news item when she had been friends with Syaoran (and, briefly, dating him); and she most definitely did not like being talked about after her very public "break-up."

"If our school gossip ran through published magazines, Mai's life would be all over the glamor magazines, and your life would be all over the tabloids," Tomoyo had said aptly.

On the downside, it was now harder than ever to stop thinking about Syaoran Li. He stayed true to his word; as if nothing had ever happened, Syaoran continued to ignore her gazes as she passed him in the halls or on her way to her seat in the classes she had with him. And as Sakura remembered flashes of the weekend, his worried eyes locked on hers and his warm arms heating up her body, she had to grit her teeth and fight through that ache in her chest, which was no longer dull, but once again as excruciatingly painful—perhaps even moreso—as it had been in the very first days after her revelation.

And not only did it hurt, but the situation had confused her to no end. Sakura had spent the whole of her Sunday lying in bed, wondering over and over exactly how much Syaoran still cared about her—because in spite of all of his complaints, he had stayed for much longer than Sakura had expected him to. She may have been a bit romantically challenged, but she knew concern where she saw it. And although Sakura found herself wishing that Syaoran cared enough so that he could hear her apologies more clearly, the thought of him caring at all was comforting.

So with these thoughts in mind, Sakura had managed to pull herself together before classes began, and somehow, she proceeded to make it throughout the day.

* * *

And once again, the weeks began to pass, at first slowly and then more and more quickly, as Sakura found herself recovering bit by bit from the fresh heartache of that weekend. She was coming to realize that it was a process; as long as she managed to get herself up and moving after the initial hurt, she found herself able to overcome what always, in the beginning, had felt like inescapable pain. Indeed, she still thought about it, and quite often—the most random things would remind her of him—but she got into the habit of telling herself that it was over and that she needed to move on, and she would manage to keep going.

And then, finally, as the cold weather began to fade away and the days grew longer, Sakura found that he longest-lasting reminders she'd had of Syaoran—the cold weather, the snow, the sleet—were disappearing before her eyes.

On the first day of March, Sakura returned from school and sat at her desk, looking out the window at a green leaf on the tree branch just outside of her house. _Maybe it's time to let go for good,_ she thought.

She almost rolled her eyes at the cheesiness of it, but it was true; aside from the things he had given her that still sat in her room, her most prominent way of remembering him had been through the snow, or the puffs of air she could see before her when she breathed. Now that even Mother Nature wasn't supporting her, it seemed foolish to keep holding on to something that was so clearly over.

Sakura didn't even bother to look at Syaoran anymore. She had learned to avoid his gaze the same way he had done to her in the beginning, and she found that, although it did not make her feel better, it numbed the pain for certain. At some point, she had realized that ultimately, she'd broken his heart, and as such, he had no care for her own heart, which was most certainly broken, too. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to forgive herself for what she did, so long as she knew that Syaoran had not forgiven her—but she had told herself that she'd done all she could without appearing psychopathic, and even Tomoyo had told her that it was enough. So she gave up, and the issue began to consume her thoughts less and less.

Her dreams were different, of course, because she had no control over what she dreamed—frequently, she'd wake up feeling bitter, and then defeated. And as such, the beginning of each day was a struggle; she'd gradually have to work herself back up to feeling normal at all, but she always knew in the back of her mind that she'd get there.

That said, she was merely surviving. And even that was no easy task, for this was the most difficult ordeal she had ever faced in her life.

* * *

Meiling peeked out of her bedroom door before stepping out into the hallway. Sighing in relief, she tiptoed down the long halls of her house and down the staircase to the first floor toward the kitchen. The glowing digital clock in her bedroom had read two in the morning; she figured that everyone in the household had gone to bed by now.

Upon flicking on the kitchen light, though, she nearly screamed, and then she sighed, first in relief and then in exasperation: Ryuji sat on one of the barstools by the counter, taking quiet sips of some beverage out of a mug. He'd clearly not been sleeping; he was still in work attire, dress pants and a white button-down, although his sleeves were rolled up and his tie loosened. His hair looked messy, as though he'd run his hand through it one too many times, and he seemed tired. He looked unsurprised at Meiling's appearance, and he merely raised a dark eyebrow as she'd jumped in surprise.

"God, you scared me," Meiling muttered, not moving from her place at the entrance of the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" Ryuji said, his voice low.

Meiling's stomach growled loudly at that moment, answering his question.

Ryuji smirked. "Hungry, are we?"

"Shut up," Meiling said, narrowing her eyes at him. She shuffled towards the refrigerator.

"There's still some miso soup on the stove and rice in the rice cooker," Ryuji said to Meiling's back, trying not to grin. Meiling was in a robe and pajama pants, and the large face of a smiling, cartoonized monkey adorned the back of the robe. It was so unlike her, who seemed to wear a permanent frown on her face.

"I can find my own food, thank you." Miso soup actually sounded very good to her at the moment, but she refused to take it because it would mean letting Ryuji win.

Earlier in the evening, Meiling and her father had fought yet again; a dinner was being held for the senior class, and as one of the more charismatic, more academically well-rounded younger students, Meiling had been assigned to give a speech to seniors. It was a privilege and an honor to be chosen for this position, and the speechgiver's parents were expected to come. Meiling's father, however, had stated that he had business affairs the evening of the dinner, and he could not make it.

"_You aren't even trying," Meiling said quietly, picking at her fingernails and trying to ignore Ryuji's uncomfortable presence in the room._

_They sat stiffly in the living room around the coffee table, her father in the armchair and Meiling on one sofa. Ryuji sat on the one across from her, and she could feel his gaze trained on her face. She did not look at him. _

_Meiling's father flipped through his newspaper, and he readjusted his glasses and sighed. "Meiling, that's very unfair. You know how much time this business deal is taking—" _

"_Isn't that what he's for?" Meiling said, pointing at Ryuji. _

"_Meiling. Be rational." _

_Meiling gritted her teeth. Her father's calmness was infuriating. "Be _rational?_ Father, you haven't been to anything important to me in years! Are you even going to attend my graduation?"_

"_Don't be ridiculous. Your mother was never this dramatic. I don't know who you get it from," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked over at Ryuji. "I'm sorry about this," he said, gesturing to Meiling. "You've been here for a few weeks, so I'm sure you're used to it by now, but..."_

_Meiling slammed her hands down on the sofa either side of her and stood up. "Don't you dare talk about me like I'm not even here!" _

"_Meiling."_

"_Is nothing about me important to you anymore? Do you even know why I'm getting to do this speech? Do you know how hard I work, how much I break my back trying to impress you?" Meiling screamed, her breaths heaving and her eyes wild. "All you care about is your job, your fucking job. You're rich enough! What more are you looking for? Why are you searching for a son when you already have a daughter who's been starving for your attention for her entire goddamn life?" Tears fell down her eyes, and she wiped them away hurriedly, stubbornly._

_Meiling's father stood up, folded the newspaper, and set it down on the table. Meiling waited with baited breath, wondering what he would do; she'd never before made it clear that she knew of his secret. _

"_It's been a long day. I will not have this conversation with you. I'll see you at dinner," he said, his voice quiet but laced with malice. Meiling was almost hurt that he hadn't yelled back at her. _

_Meiling watched, her shoulders slumped, as her father left the room and headed up the staircase, and without any theatrics or ceremony, she fell back down on the sofa and wept. _

_Ryuji, whose presence she'd seemed to have forgotten, watched her quizzically. He had indeed noticed her father's neglect, almost immediately upon his arrival, in fact; but he hadn't thought it appropriate to bring up the matter to either party, and so he had remained quiet. It had been evident from the beginning that this had been a long-standing issue, but he had watched through the weeks as Meiling's frustration seemed to grow exponentially every day. He had certainly expected a fight at some point; he had not, however, expected her to let herself be crushed so easily. He felt an urge to help, to offer some kind of solace—but really, what could he do or say? Meiling's father was the reason he had a place to stay and his mother was in the safe hands of people who had time to take care of her. Nonetheless, for some reason or another, he couldn't stand to keep watching Meiling—usually so fiery and strong—in pieces. _

"_Hey," he said, standing up and going over to her._

_Meiling's head snapped up out of her hands, and she seemed to just realize that he had been there. Her eyes were rimmed with red. _

"_I, uh..." For once, Ryuji did not know what to say._

"_This doesn't concern you," Meiling said, her voice icy, and she stood up and walked to her room._

As a result, Meiling had refused to leave her room for the rest of the evening, including during dinner; her father had not put up a fight to make her come down. Ryuji had thought of leaving the table to try and convince her, for he'd found her absence at the table noticeable and uncomfortable. But once again, he'd figured it was not his place to get involved in the family's affairs, and so he'd eaten in silence.

Ryuji watched her now as she rummaged through the refrigerator, amused and still slightly sorry for her. The loss of his father had been tough, but his father had always been very attentive to him, and for that, he'd been infinitely thankful. He still could not conjure up anything to say to her on the issue, and for once, he didn't feel much like teasing her. But how else could they communicate? It was all they'd done since they'd met.

Meiling sighed and shut the refrigerator door, unsuccessful in her attempts to find something else to eat. She glared at Ryuji. "Don't say anything," she muttered as she walked over to the stove to ladle herself some soup.

Ryuji shrugged and watched as she got herself food and sat down at the counter beside him. He felt uncomfortable with the heavy silence as she spooned soup into her mouth, and so he started to whistle. He glanced over to find Meiling giving him a nasty side-eye, and he stopped whistling and burst out laughing at the immediate reaction. "Nothing pleases you, does it?"

Meiling snorted. "Oh, you were trying to _please_ me."

"You're so surly all the time. Why don't you smile every once in awhile?"

"I'm sorry. I'm incapable of smiling when I'm around people like you."

"It seems like you're incapable of smiling, period. How ironic that the monkey on the back of your bathrobe is permanently grinning."

Meiling groaned and shoved the now-empty soup bowl away from her, leaning back exasperatedly into the stool's back. "Would you just leave me _alone_? We both know why I'm like this all the time, you asshole. You were there. You saw it yourself. I can't do it today, Ryuji." The venom left her voice, and suddenly, she sounded exhausted. "So please stop." She shut her eyes.

Ryuji played with his fingers, feeling some guilt. It was rare to see Meiling so vulnerable; she was so ready for battle all the time that it was unsettling to see her without her weapons. He glanced over at her. "You're not gonna cry, are you?" he asked, his words not betraying any kind of sympathy; but his tone was gentle.

Meiling sighed, getting out of the chair. "No," she said, and she put her bowl in the dishwasher. "What good would it do?"

She looked at Ryuji for a long moment, and he was startled by the raw pain in her expression. He blinked, and it was gone.

"Good night, Ryuji," Meiling said, and she walked out of the kitchen before he could respond.

* * *

Tomoyo strolled absentmindedly through the mall, searching for dresses that she could use as inspiration for the one she planned to make for Sakura, whose birthday was in a month. She wished she could do something more exciting for her cousin, who had become something of a different person in the last couple of months.

_Well, no,_ Tomoyo decided, amending herself. _She's not a different person..._ She was just a lot quieter, even more drawn-in than before. Tomoyo frowned as she walked over to a rack of dresses in one of the posh shops and sifted through them. She had seen such immense progress in Sakura from the very day they had become friends; it was as though something tremendous had happened, an indescribably powerful shift, after Eriol's party.

Syaoran had been the catalyst for that, and now he was the catalyst for her decline in social interaction as well.

It had been months; these events, so monumental in Sakura's life, had occurred in January and February. And now that March was here and the sun remained in the sky longer, Tomoyo hated that while everyone else's spirits seemed to lift with the temperature, Sakura remained the same—not quite sad, but lifeless, which seemed even sadder in a way.

There had to be some way to fix this. Unable to bring up the issue to the overprotective Touya or Fujitaka, who simply would not understand, Tomoyo had voiced her concerns to her mother, who ensured that time would heal the wound. But would it? A month was hardly a long time and they were so young, but Tomoyo wondered if anyone would ever draw Sakura out of her shell the way Syaoran had. It was a ridiculous, dramatic thought—that Syaoran was the only one, fated for her at the age of sixteen—but they had been so good for each other. Even if Sakura found someone else later on, which Sonomi had assured Tomoyo she would, it would never be the same. There was something about a first love; it never lost its luster. Even now, Tomoyo found herself lonely at night, and she often wondered Ken was doing. She would move on, she knew; but she would never not love him.

Her situation with Ken, however, had been irreparable. She had contemplated over and over the idea of calling him and telling him she hadn't meant it; but why wasn't he calling her and asking to work it out? It was a sign, she felt, that things just were not meant to be. Ken and she had both worked to end it—he building up to it, she delivering the final blow. They had controlled the fate of their own relationship.

But external forces had destroyed what Sakura and Syaoran had; they had been steered off the path by the people who had inadvertently brought them together. Tomoyo could not shake the idea that, if someone got them back on track, they would somehow meet in the middle, and then they could take control of their fate. And if it still did not work out, only then would Tomoyo believe that Sakura and Syaoran were not meant for each other.

They needed another chance. Tomoyo was determined to figure this out. Her mind flickered to Eriol. She could use some help... Even if he weren't willing to work with her, he'd probably do it for the sake of his best friend.

Her eyes settled on a floral-print sundress with a cinched waist and a sweetheart neckline. _Bingo._

_

* * *

_

Eriol raised a brow as his phone rang. He looked at the clock, which read one in the morning; he couldn't imagine who would be calling this late, unless it was Yamazaki calling about some stupid video game premiere. But Eriol felt his stomach lurch as he looked at the screen of the phone. _Tomoyo Daidouji,_ it read.

In a daze, he sat and stared as the ringtone played out on his phone, the screen lighting up in alternating colors to grab his attention. Finally, the ringing stopped, and he wondered to himself why he hadn't picked up, but more primarily why she had even called.

They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the night she had brought her boyfriend to Syaoran's house. Eriol hadn't been angry, really; he hadn't had a right to be. But upon seeing their interaction, he'd found that he had no desire to step in between a seemingly happy couple, in spite of the problems he had witnessed between them over the break. And to rid himself of any further temptation, he had stopped talking to Tomoyo entirely, avoiding her at school as well. To his disappointment, she did not protest, which he took to mean that she wordlessly agreed that it was for the best.

So what could have changed? Months later, why was she calling?

_And why the hell did I not answer the phone? _

Just then, his phone buzzed once more to indicate that he had received a voicemail. Eriol dialed the voicemail number, keyed in his password, and listened as Tomoyo's voice came through.

"_Hi, Eriol."_

There was an audible sigh. She sounded nervous.

"_I, uh... I'm sorry for calling so late. I'm sure you're asleep right now. I've been thinking about calling you all day, and I finally got the courage to do it just now. I was scared that if I waited till tomorrow, I wouldn't be able to do it anymore. I really..._"

She paused, and Eriol took the time to berate himself for feeling so elated at the thought of her spending the entire day debating whether or not to call him. He tried to persuade himself that it wasn't that big of a deal.

"_I really am sorry about the way everything turned out. I would like to explain to you in person everything that happened and where everything is now. I should have done it sooner, I know... But I guess I was kind of scared. But I'd really like to meet up with you. And lastly, I need your help. I know I'm not in any kind of position to ask you for anything right now, but it's not about me. It's about Sakura and Syaoran. Anyway, if you don't want to do this, I totally understand. You don't even have to call me back." _A nervous giggle followed those words. _"But, you know, in the event that you decide to give me a chance, just... Call me whenever. Thanks. Bye."_

Eriol listened to the sound of the phone disconnecting, and then he sat, surprised and still utterly dazed. She wanted to meet up, she said, not only to discuss what had happened—and in all honesty, he did want to know—but also to... help Sakura and Syaoran? What was that about?

He didn't know how he felt.

Or, rather, he did know—he was overjoyed, really—but he was trying to tamp it down. He knew it was foolish to get his hopes up over something very small and what could end up being very insignificant. Letting out an exhale, he dialed Tomoyo's number and listened to the ringing on the other end of the line. And then, her voice.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Tomoyo."

* * *

Syaoran rolled around in bed, sleepless yet again. It had been hours since he'd climbed into bed. His inability to sleep had not gone away in the last few months, and he was suffering from it: unused to such insomnia, his body reacted rather angrily to the lack of sleep, and frequent headaches had become a familiar occurrence. Wei, who had become concerned when Syaoran had asked him for the third night in a row to make him a tea that helped with the headaches, had suggested seeing a doctor to get prescribed sleeping pills; but Syaoran had waved it off. He didn't want to fall into some chemical-induced sleep when he was already well aware of what the problem was.

It had been a good few weeks since the whole incident with Sakura had come to a head, since he had completely ended things and told her that he wanted to act like nothing had ever happened—and yet, Syaoran continued to think about her. Of course, with the lack of interaction with her, he did not think about her nearly as much as he used to; but due to their classes, he did see her every day, and it took effort on his part for him to think of much else when he was in the same room with her.

What was interesting was that Syaoran no longer felt very angry about the issue; for the most part, he simply felt resigned. Even in the weeks after he had initially found out about Sakura's deception, he had maintained a glimmer of hope that perhaps she had felt something more for him after all, that it wasn't all just acting. And the night he had stayed at her house when she was sick, that glimmer had grown into a blinding light, consuming everything within him, because the sadness in her eyes, the trinkets in her room, her requesting him to stay and her settling into his arms when he'd held her—it had all been too much for him to fight. Throughout the night, he had struggled valiantly against that light, not wanting to get his hopes up. And then, in the morning, she'd seemed to have forgotten everything, and Syaoran had felt that light fading almost as quickly as it had grown. It had been an agonizing process for him. To save himself any more such pain, he had told her that they were to act as if that weekend had never occurred.

He scoffed. As if that had resolved the issue. He'd also noticed, with reluctant disappointment, that Sakura had stopped trying to get his attention in any way possible, and he had yet to catch her even looking at him in recent weeks. _Good,_ he'd thought. _She's not trying to patronize me anymore. _Pity was among the things he hated the most. But at night, when he was alone with his thoughts, he could be frighteningly honest with himself, and Syaoran had to admit to himself that he was, in fact, disappointed that Sakura had seemed to have given up altogether.

And so the light had gone back down to a glimmer, but even smaller than before. Syaoran figured that with time, the glimmer would disappear entirely and he'd be able to move on with his life, but he was an impatient boy, and the constant, tiny flicker that was still there was eating away at his sanity. What was the issue? Why couldn't he get over it? _She _had, hadn't she?

He'd wracked his brain over and over, scouring every memory, cutting every thought in half and analyzing each half, trying to figure out just why, _why _he could not let this go. And then, somewhere in the middle of a sleepless night, the answer, so very simple, fluttered before him: there was no closure.

He had no closure to the issue. And that was more his fault than anything else—he was the one who had ended things the way he had upon his last real encounter with Sakura. And then, after that, no words or actions had formally ended their interaction; rather, it had gradually faded, with Sakura eventually giving up and Syaoran resorting to silently tormenting himself daily. So the wound had indeed faded, and the pain was certainly duller now—but the way it had faded had left a noticeable, ugly scar, one that Syaoran saw every day to remind him of what had happened. Had things ended the right way, there would be no scar, he thought. But was there really a right way to end things? Could he rewind, go back, perhaps talk to Sakura about what had happened, and manage to part ways in that manner? It would provide him peace of mind, he was sure of it. There was only one problem...

Syaoran hated to admit it, even—or especially—to himself, but the thought of it frightened him.

* * *

In the following days, Syaoran became obsessive over the thought of this closure that he sought. He had convinced himself that there was no other way to do it than to track Sakura down, get her alone, and get some kind of affirmation out of her. However, he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it, because, to his own surprise, he felt nervous even looking at her anymore.

Syaoran Li, unafraid of anything and willing to push himself to every limit, was nervous about talking to a girl. And it wasn't even a girl who was worthy of such contemplation; it was a girl who had stomped all over his heart and thus deserved very little of his attention.

It was these thoughts that enabled him to catch Sakura by the elbow as she was filing out of the classroom in the last period of the day.

"Syaoran," she said, her surprise written all over her face.

Immediately, her gaze dropped to her shoes, and Syaoran wanted to scream at her for it. So she had gone back to that, then? He held back, and he smirked when he realized his nerves were gone. He hadn't expected her to infuriate his nerves away, but he wasn't complaining.

"I need to talk to you," he said, now able to maintain an air of detached casualty. He was thankful for it.

"About what?"

"A lot. I don't have time right now because I have to run to practice, but meet me by the café by the mall tonight around six."

"But I—"

Syaoran walked off before she could finish her protest, satisfied with himself and fairly confident that she would show up.

That said, he tried to ignore the slight tinge of doubt that bubbled beneath his confidence.

* * *

Syaoran hadn't needed to worry; Sakura had shown up, albeit a bit late. Formally and distantly, he had asked her if she wanted anything, and she had shaken her head no as she sat down across from him. He had ordered a cup of coffee for himself, and after the waitress had left, they had both sat in heavy silence.

"So..." Sakura trailed off, her eyes flickering at Syaoran, then back out the window. She could not keep her eyes on him for too long, she found, or her heart would go into overtime trying to keep up with the rush of emotions she felt when she looked at him.

In contrast, Syaoran kept his eyes trained on her, piercing into her, and it was contributing quite significantly to Sakura's nerves. It had been so long since she had seen anything behind those eyes, and that she saw without any doubt that familiar fire made her both excited and incredibly scared.

"So," Syaoran responded, brow raised. Beneath the tabletop, his fists were clenched, shoved into his pockets. He was almost as nervous as she seemed, but he was also much more adept at keeping his emotions at bay. He was all too familiar with putting up a cool facade, and he did so in the manner of a seasoned veteran as he watched Sakura visibly squirm.

There was a long moment of silence where neither said anything, but both could feel the extreme tension in the air. Sakura felt her lungs constricting. Never had she wanted so badly to get up and leave, and that was saying something. She glanced back up at him, and she found that this time around, she could not bring herself to tear her eyes away from his. She lost herself for a moment, trying to decipher what was behind those bits of amber, so bright—almost glowing—in the sunlight that poured through the window. Was there anger? It seemed as though there was. And there seemed to be a sadness, too. She felt like she could see longing, but she didn't trust herself anymore. What could he possibly long for at this point?

Exhausted, Sakura dropped her gaze back to the table, fiddling with her hands. "You called me here," she said quietly. "What do you want from me?"

Syaoran was quiet for a few more seconds, and then he cleared his throat and spoke. His voice was unsurprisingly stoic. "I haven't been able to sleep."

Sakura was baffled. "Huh?"

"I haven't been able to sleep," Syaoran repeated, and for the first time, he lowered his gaze. He brought his hands out to the surface of the table, staring at his palms as he spoke. "For months, I haven't been able to sleep."

Sakura still didn't know what to say—she had no idea what he was getting at. But she still knew him quite well, and not only did she know him well enough to realize that his behavior at the moment was strange, but she also knew to keep silent and see if he'd keep talking.

A moment passed, and she was correct—he did.

"It's been giving me awful headaches, I guess because my waking life is strenuous enough as it is. But you know why I haven't been able to sleep, Sakura?" Syaoran said, and he looked back up at her again.

Sakura felt her stomach lurch at the sound of her name combined with the force of his eyes on hers once more. She could sense where this was going, and she dreaded it. "Wh-why?"

"Because we finished this without any kind of finality. So really, we didn't finish it at all." Syaoran sighed. "I didn't want to have to talk with you this way, but it's been driving me insane, and I'd like to just get past this completely so I can forget about it. It's a distraction, as much as I hate to admit it, and it's prohibiting me from doing a lot of things I'd like to do. Sleep, for one thing. So, as a final favor, can you just... Can we just end it for good? In words?"

It was curt and unnecessarily harsh, he knew; but he wanted to finish the deed in as few words as possible. There was no time, he felt, for quality conversation—the situation was painful and awkward for both of them, and it was best that they spent as little time together, talking about this, as possible—and he was certain that he would get the closure he was looking for out of any kind of worded confirmation. That was just the way his brain worked.

Sakura bit her lip. It was true; she had suffered from the lack of closure as well. But it had almost comforted her, that there was no closure—for that had meant that things weren't ever officially, formally over. And Sakura's mind had twisted that fact into some sick hope that things could be mended. In all truth, she couldn't help but feel that it was unfair for Syaoran to ask her of this; for although he was correct in that there was no closure, wasn't he the one who had made it that way? After he had taken care of her, he had told her that he would forget about it, act as though it had never happened. Wasn't that a very direct way of denying closure?

She owed him a lot; she knew she did. She would feel forever indebted for what she'd done to him. She had thought to herself so many times over that she would do anything he asked of her, anything at all, if he had ever decided to speak to her again—because she felt that she owed him that much. So although the idea of discussing the end, the true end, of their relationship made her feel weak with anxiety—Sakura was positive that the act would rip a hole in her heart in the most violent, painful way possible—she would do it. She would do it because she owed him.

"If that's what you want," she said quietly. "But I mean... What do you want me to say? Will the words really make it better?" She looked at him helplessly, apologetically.

Syaoran scratched his head. He hadn't thought it entirely through—he hadn't expected her to bend so easily. _Then again, it _is _Sakura._

"I don't know... Just... It _is_ over... Isn't it?" Syaoran said, sounding far more uncertain than he had meant to. Why had he made that into a question? Of course it was.

Likewise, Sakura found herself startled at the questioning tone of his words. He wasn't sure himself, it seemed—it made her heart race. "I—well, that's what I would assume," she murmured, looking down at the tabletop again. "It's what you wanted."

"So we're done," Syaoran said. He could feel it coming, this _click_ of closure he'd been waiting for—all she had to do was agree—

"I suppose we are." Sakura felt miserable; he sounded eager and ready to hear the words.

But for Syaoran, there was no _click_. He frowned, waiting for it; but the same anxiety, the same insanity he had felt all this time, had not subsided. Perhaps it was merely not an instant effect and he just had to wait, he thought; but in the recesses of his mind, he knew that, in all reality, a simply worded "it's over" would not do. But what was he really searching for? What would make it better? He was so desperate for this feeling to leave him. He watched Sakura, who was not looking at him. She looked tired and defeated, not too different from himself. And he knew that there was more to the story than he had chosen to accept, than Sakura had said out loud. Because otherwise, why would the issue be wearing down so hard on both of them?

He had never really asked her, although he had considered it many times, why she had done what she had done; ultimately, he had decided that he didn't want to know. But now, now that they were here, face to face, he struggling not to let everything tip over and she struggling to speak her piece without any of the required words... He wanted to know. He needed it. "Sakura," he said, and he could feel his breath shortening in his anticipation. "Why did you do it?"

The words came out gently, curiously, rather than gruffly as he had meant for them to. They didn't reflect any of the anger or agony he had felt in the weeks afterward, but instead, they conveyed what dominated his feelings overall: bewilderment. In his mind, it all seemed to make sense—she had done it for the prestige and the pride, but his heart was shouting very different things at him, primarily that she was not that kind of person.

Sakura blinked a few times, and then her eyes widened for a moment as though something had been caught in them. "What?"

He shrugged. "You don't... have to answer if you don't want to. But it'd be nice to know. Maybe that'd give me more peace of mind than this whole closure thing. Hell, maybe that _is_ the closure I'm looking for."

Sakura's brow furrowed, and a crease formed above the bridge of her nose. She stared at her hands once more. "I mean, you know the answer already. I did it..." She sighed; she could practically hear the noise of her insides completely ripping to shreds as she spoke. "I did it because I wanted to prove I was something to those girls. Mai and them."

It was Syaoran's turn to sigh; he had been hoping she'd make some new revelation, anything to give him a little more hope or at least satisfaction. "So that really is it, huh?"

Sakura clenched her fists, and she looked up at him; to his further confusion, tears were brimming her eyes.

"Syaoran, I—"

Sakura took a deep breath and began to avert her gaze again, but she shut her eyes, opened them, and forced herself to look back at him. He looked concerned more than anything else.

She tried again. "I really did... I really did enjoy my time with you, though. It wasn't all fake. Especially towards the end." Her voice wavered, and she bit her lip to keep the rest from spilling out. _Because you made me fall in love with you. I love you, I love you, I love you. _She let out another breath and let her head fall, suddenly exhausted. Inconspicuously, she wiped away a tear.

Syaoran was moved. It wasn't all he was hoping for, but it was certainly more than he was expecting.

"Sakura..." he found himself saying, but he didn't know what to follow it with. He willed her to look at him, and for once, she tilted her head upward, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, they said nothing and stared at each other, and Syaoran found that he could not close himself off the way he had been able to so many times before. He could feel everything he thought and felt completely exposed, written all over his face, engraved in his eyes for her to see. And as easy as it was for Syaoran to let his emotions spill out, to let the crack in his facade grow wider and wider, it was as though Sakura were trying with all her might to convey her own feelings through her expression, and it was exhausting her. What was she trying to say?

And then, so suddenly and loudly that it caused Syaoran to jump, Sakura pushed her chair back and stood up. Hurriedly, she gathered her bag and books and pushed her hair back behind her ear. "I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Sakura, what—" he started, but before he could even finish, she had turned on her heel and run out the door of the café, the bells over the entrance clinking loudly.

Sakura didn't know exactly what had propelled her out of the café, but all she knew was that she could not handle the conversation they were having. Admitting that it was over and then seeing the look on his face as she had confirmed his suspicions, and then topping it off by holding herself back from saying the thing she needed to say the most—the strain of all of it had made her physically ill, and it was all she could do not to stop by the side of the road upon which she ran and vomit. She felt as though an iron hand were gripping at her lungs and her heart, constricting her of air and killing her slowly. She couldn't bring herself to elaborate on the end, when really, she had never even allowed herself a beginning. How was the end even fathomable when she had never told him that she loved him?

Syaoran sat for a moment, dazed, and then he pushed his own chair back and took off running after her. What had just happened? He tried blindly to make sense of it as he stepped out of the door and saw her sprinting down the street.

As he ran after her, he tried to string the events and emotions together with logic, wanting desperately to know how he had gotten to this point. They had dated, he had fallen in love, he had confessed to his initial ulterior motive, and she had neither fallen in love nor confessed to her own motives. She had been playing him all along, and it was only when she had gotten caught that she felt remorse. And then, things had gotten more complicated. Somehow, she still seemed sad through all of it, even though she had clearly gotten what she'd wanted. She had gotten sick, and she had all but told him that she missed him, and he had most certainly missed her—but he had decided it couldn't be, because she did not love him. And just now, she had told him that she had enjoyed it, that not all of it had been fabricated, but still, Syaoran was attempting—and failing—to force himself to think it didn't matter, because she did not love him. She did not love him, and that was the key. That was what tied all of this together. That was what made this entire situation make any kind of sense whatsoever.

_But it doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. _

For Sakura seemed even more heartbroken than Syaoran felt, and as he sprinted after her—and wondered how on earth she could run so fast for so long—he knew that whatever was causing this chase, whatever words she could not bring herself to let out, were crucial to untangling this mess of a situation.

"Sakura, slow down!" Syaoran called, even as he picked up speed and felt himself gaining on her.

They had reached the roads of a neighborhood across the street now, empty in the dusk as families were likely sitting down for dinner. Syaoran closed in on the last three steps and caught Sakura by the shoulder, slinging her back and causing her to topple onto him.

Both lay there on the pavement for awhile, catching their breath. Syaoran watched Sakura, who wouldn't look at him; her face was streaked with tears, and her hair was everywhere.

"God," Syaoran muttered to himself, finally sitting up and pulling Sakura up with him. "Are you all right?"

He dusted himself off and then brushed some of the gravel off of Sakura's arms. She flinched away, looking, for once, not at the ground, but up at the sky. Her bag hung limply from one of her hands.

"Sakura," he said, and he took firm hold of her shoulders, not letting her shake him off. "Sakura, look at me."

She lowered her head, and Syaoran had no idea how to react to her expression, for he had never seen this kind of pain written on her face before. It was unfathomable.

"What is the matter with you?" he said softly. "What is it you're not telling me?"

"I can't... I can't do it," she muttered, her eyes closing. More tears made their way out of the corners of her eyes, falling rapidly down her chin.

"Do what?"

Sakura took a step back from Syaoran, who cautiously let her go. Sakura sighed, her breath shaking, and her words came out mangled and distorted as she tried to maintain control of her voice. "I can't talk about this anymore. I can't—I can't talk about how we're over, I can't talk about how it happened or why I did it. You wanted to hear it once. That's all I can offer you. And I know I owe you so much more, but I'm not capable of giving you any more. I'm sorry," she finished with a sigh. She was proud of herself for keeping it together even to this extent. Any moment now, she felt she was going to explode into a million little pieces.

Syaoran furrowed his brow at her words. She owed him something, she had said. So, even in the midst of all of the unreadable chaos, at least he knew that her remorse was more than skin-deep. But the words she said were not the words that he wanted to hear—he needed her to talk, for her to explain this, because the only way he would ever recover any semblance of his sanity was if he could complete the puzzle. And it was almost heartless of Sakura, who held the last few pieces, to say so much and so little at the same time.

"Sakura, I don't..." He was frustrated with himself for being vastly incapable of finishing most of his sentences during this conversation. He tried again, this time with much more success. "I don't want to hurt you or anything. I don't need for you to feel like you owe me something. But I am going crazy, absolutely out of my mind here, because I don't understand what the hell is going on anymore. What are we doing? If it's over—" he watched her carefully as he said this, and true to form, Sakura clenched her fist at the words— "If it's over, then why the hell are we still dancing around each other? I just need you to tell me that much. Just that much."

Syaoran watched her, hoping his words would illicit a positive reaction.

Sakura looked at him, looking more tired than ever, and he felt a chill as he watched her shake her head. She wasn't going to say anything more to him, he realized. And he wouldn't try any more—for it would be selfish and cruel, he thought, to keep trying when she so clearly did not want to reveal anything else. But to his surprise, she began to speak, stumbling over her quiet words, her voice shaking.

"I would. I really would. I want to, because I know it's the least I could do for you. But it's so painful. It's like there's this glass shard embedded inside of me, and this is only going to drive it in deeper. And I know I deserve for it to stay there, that glass, and I can handle that much, maybe... But I don't think I can keep going. God, Syaoran, it hurts so much that I think I might go crazy. So please," she said, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "Please don't push it in any further. I'm begging you."

She felt awful—after such a betrayal, she should at least have been able to give him the one thing that she was lucky enough for him to ask of her. But she would break, she felt, if she even began to try. And if she did explain, how would she evade what she could never tell him? It wasn't fair to tell him that she loved him, to add on that extra burden, when she'd done something so awful to him. Even if he forgave her, even now, as he stood before her, open and emotional, she could not forgive herself. Her head felt heavy from the emotions, and she rested her forehead on the palm of her hand as she tried in vain to hold back more tears.

Syaoran was at a complete loss for words. He sat down beside her. "Sakura..." Cautiously, he stroked her hair. She did not react. "What is this glass you're talking about?" In spite of the direness of the situation, he could feel his hopes rising, and he was powerless to stop them. Could she be...?

This was it. This had to be the _click_ Syaoran had been waiting for. He'd had slight reason to question it before, but Sakura's ambiguity made him wonder if they were thinking on the same plane—was he right? Was she not in love with him? Or had she somehow... Syaoran didn't want to finish the thought, but regardless, whether she said no or yes, he'd get his closure, selfish as that sounded. But what else could it be? What else would be driving her so mad with such pain?

"Sakura," he repeated, and he held her face and tilted it up towards him.

She looked at him in bewilderment through her tears.

"I need you to answer me honestly—this is the last question I'll ask you, and then I'll leave you alone. I won't add to your hurt. I don't want you to hurt. You don't need to punish yourself. So just answer me honestly, and no matter what you say, as long as it's honest, just let it go. Let yourself off the hook. Can you give me that?"

Sakura couldn't say yes, but she bit her lip. "I'll try."

It was good enough for him. His eyes focused directly on hers, he let the words fall—with ease, surprisingly—out of his mouth. "Sakura, do you love me?"

Her eyes widened, and she swallowed only to find that her mouth had gone dry. Had he just asked what she'd heard?

Syaoran said nothing, watching her carefully, more and more of his hope building up in his chest.

Sakura felt as though someone had sucked all the breath out of her—why was he asking the very thing she'd been trying to avoid all along? Why would he need to know? She wanted to tell him _no_, so badly, for his sake and for hers—but she remembered that she owed him. She could at least give him the truth: a simple affirmation. That was all he needed.

Drawing in a deep breath, Sakura closed her eyes as the words came out.

"I do."

* * *

Not quite as long as the usual—a couple pages short—but I hope it satisfies! I know it's a cliffhanger, but now that it's summer, I promise I'll have the next chapter up soon. I called this chapter "Inside" because I spent a lot of it providing a glimpse into each of the characters' lives at present, not just Sakura's and Syaoran's (although they are the focus, of course). I particularly wanted to spend a lot of time on Meiling and Ryuji just because they're so fun to write, and I hope you guys enjoyed getting inside their heads as well. Eriol and Tomoyo are finally communicating again, which is a relief for me as much as it seems to be for them; but now that their whole purpose of getting together already seems to be taking place without them, will they still interact? Ho hum. As for Sakura and Syaoran, let's see where this leads. "I love you" doesn't always mean "let's make up," but communication is certainly better than months of silence! Also, I put this up in a hurry and I'm going to proofread later, but if you spot any typos or plot holes, let me know! Thanks for reading, and I'd love it if you left a review! Love you guys.

-boreum dal


	17. Words

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everyone! Okay, so I didn't take too, too long in posting this next chapter! Exciting, isn't it? XD Thanks for all the amazing reviews, and I really appreciate all your words of comfort. I wasn't expecting sympathy, so it was really nice T-T I'm also sorry I haven't gotten around to replying to all of the reviews... I started to, but then I had some business to take care of for a couple of weeks and I fell behind. But I really loved all of your reviews; so many of them are touching, and they make me feel so happy, no joke. So, things are drawing to a semi-close in this next chapter... About three more chapters and this story will be over! It makes me kind of sad, because this story has been with me for so long! I was thirteen when I started it, and I'm eighteen now. (Blame it on the year-long hiatuses.) But I'll be posting a new one after this that I've been working on, so I hope you guys read and enjoy that one as much as you have this one! With that, on to the story. Thanks a lot!

**Chapter 17:** Words

Syaoran was certain that he felt something erupt in his chest as he heard the words.

She did. She did love him. Sakura Kinomoto loved him, and all of a sudden, everything made so much more sense and, at the same time, very little sense at all. He knew her well enough to come up with a list of reasons why and how things could have turned out the way they did even if—or perhaps because—she loved him, but all the same, he was stunned, a little out of breath. He'd certainly _hoped_, with all his strength and heart, that she would say yes, but he was a realist, even a pessimist to an extent, and he had never _expected_ her to do so. So he hadn't prepared himself for what would happen if she did happen to say she loved him; and now that she had, he was at a loss for what to do.

"Syaoran?"

He snapped his head up to look at her, suddenly remembering he was not alone with his thoughts. Sakura wore a fearful expression, her eyes wide, eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted. She was scared, he realized, because his face was blank, not revealing much—if anything, negativity moreso than positivity. Quickly, he cleared his throat, and he tried to get himself together, more for her sake than for his own. He was happy—overjoyed, really—at the admission, but so stunned was he that he couldn't bring himself to smile naturally or to relax.

"Could you please say something?" Sakura said quietly.

She sounded miserable; Syaoran wanted to assure her there was no reason to be that way, but he was unsure of how to do so. Instead, a question came out about a millisecond after it came across his mind; in his shock, he'd lost the filter between his mind and his mouth.

"Sakura... If you love me, why did you let it go on for so long?"

"I was going to tell you," she said immediately, an edge of desperation to her voice. "I was. I know it might not be believable, but the very day Mai said anything about it to you... I was going to tell you."

Syaoran was frustrated she had even let it go that far, but his happiness and relief at her admission was overpowering any other emotion, and he was trying very hard not to let it overtake him and make him a fool.

"How am I even supposed to know you're telling the truth? You drive me insane, you know that?" he managed. But even as he said this, he reached up to wipe her tears away with his thumb.

Sakura looked touched by the conflicted gesture, and although he half-expected her to draw away, he felt her ever so slightly lean into his touch instead. It took him a few seconds longer to take his hand away than he had meant to, and he cursed himself for it. He was elated that she loved him, but it didn't automatically make everything better. There was still far too much left unsaid.

"I don't know what happened, why it all turned out the way it did. You say part of it was real, but where did that start? How am I supposed to be able to tell?" Syaoran said, aware of the growing frustration in his voice and thankful for it, for he was relieved to feel something other than joy.

"Syaoran, I never faked anything with you," Sakura responded. She was already exhausted, emotionally worn out and physically tired as well, and she knew she was inviting only more exhaustion by saying what she'd just said, for she would need to explain—but it was now or never, she figured. If she was going to give him the truth, she might as well give him the entire truth.

Syaoran looked at her confusedly, but he waited for her to continue.

Sakura bit her lip and played with her hands as she began to speak. "Okay. There are so many ways that this relationship was a lie, but in a lot of ways, it wasn't.

"It was a lie mostly in that I asked you out on the basis of wanting to get to know you better. That was a complete lie. I asked you out because I wanted to win this bet with Mai. It was also a lie in that I never told you that that was the primary reason I wanted to date you. But everything else—everything else, Syaoran—I meant. I wasn't happy on that first date, and I didn't fake any kind of happiness. Don't you remember?" Sakura almost smiled at the memory of their unsuccessful first meeting.

"I was miserable. Maybe I lied a little there in trying to hold back some of that misery, but that's all I can think of. But at Eriol's party, when we danced, I really was having a good time with you. I had never seen you laugh like that before. And then, after we ditched and went to get dinner instead, I think that was when I started to see you as more than a bet... Because I realized that you're actually a really, really good person," she said, the last few words coming out in a whisper.

She could feel her shame in all of its force again, rushing through her, sending a sour, unpleasant feeling to her cheeks and palms and forming a lump in her throat.

She swallowed, trying to recollect herself, and then she continued. "You know, prior to hanging out with you, I only thought there was one version of you. The one who generally couldn't have cared less about me and made fun of me and made me a nervous wreck—that was the version of you I knew. And since I thought you were like that, I thought both of us could get out of this unscathed.

"So... So imagine my surprise when I got to meet the version of you who told me I was beautiful, or the version of you who scarfs down his food faster than anyone I've ever seen before, or the version of you who gets nervous around his mother and slides down the banister of his house to chase after his sister. I was completely thrown, Syaoran. And after I got over the shock, I started to figure out that those—all of those—are what you really are. And I knew then that I'd miscalculated _everything—_because neither of us would get out of it unscathed. Not you... And definitely not me." Sakura stopped, her brow furrowed, still fidgeting with her hands.

Syaoran felt the cloudiness of the situation clearing up slightly, and his instincts had not vanished by any means; it was obvious that the talk was hard for Sakura, and he wanted to help her. But how could he, when this was something he had no idea about? Everything she was saying to him was completely new. And then, there was still the conflict—as valid as the justifications sounded, as happy as they made him, it was still not right. But he waited, knowing that he needed more before he could even begin to assess the situation.

"And after that," Sakura finally continued, breaking him out of his thoughts, "I started to figure out that I didn't want to play Mai's game anymore. But I didn't know how to stop."

She looked up at him again, and somehow, she found it easier this time, although she still felt the shame there. "I'd apologize a thousand times over if it'd help—I'm not making any excuses for myself. I didn't know how to stop, but I should've tried as soon as it hit me that this was becoming something real. I should have, instead of waiting for so long. And I'm sorry for that, Syaoran. I'm so sorry, and I'm thankful that I even have the opportunity to explain all of this to you."

She let out a shaky sigh and found the words to finish up the last leg of the story. "Anyway... I don't know when I fell in love with you. I can't pinpoint it, but that week of winter break that we spent together? That was real. All of it was real. I called Mai that week and told her I didn't want to do it anymore, and she agreed to let me tell you on my own terms eventually. And after you told me about your deal with Yamazaki, I felt like the worst person in the world, because I hadn't confessed to my own. But I still... I still let it go on, because..."

Sakura couldn't help it; in the brief pause, she attempted to exhale, and instead, a cross between a sigh and a sob came out. Doing her best to swallow it down, she forced herself to say the next part, her voice low and strained. "Because I didn't know how to tell you any of this. I didn't know how I was supposed to tell you something that would hurt you when you had done everything in your power to make me happy. It was so selfish and so cowardly, but I was scared... So I decided to wait. And the first day of school, I was going to tell you after classes ended.

"And you know how it goes from there. I wished so badly that I could tell you the truth—how it wasn't a game for me anymore—but how could I? After you found out about something like that, how would it even be fair for me to try to counter it with, 'But I really do love you?' It would have been unbelievable, and it certainly wouldn't have saved you any conflict. It seemed as though I deserved what was happening; that was what I got for waiting so long. So I figured that maybe it just wasn't meant to be, and I've been trying to move on, to get over it. But... Here we are now... And now that you know the truth... I feel even more pathetic. What am I supposed to say now? Am I supposed to tell you how much I love you, how crazy this whole thing has made me, how I can pinpoint the worst moment of my life to seeing your face when you found out about the bet?

"None of it... None of it is even worth saying anymore, Syaoran... Because what good would it do you? What good would it do me? The truth doesn't make me any nobler, and it doesn't make what I did to you any better. It all just makes me that much more pathetic."

Sakura could not bear to look at him anymore, and she lowered her head once more before she could catch his reaction. _Like a coward,_ she thought, frustrated with herself.

Syaoran sat in silence, not knowing what to say. It was difficult to process what was going through his mind at the moment, because, like most of his reactions to anything having to do with Sakura, it was all very conflicted.

For one thing, to his relief, it all made sense now. Everything that had left him completely bewildered before was finally clear to him—every question he had asked since the breakup had been answered, all by that single explanation: she had, in fact, fallen in love with him. And he had initially only thought it wishful thinking, but as he'd gone through the entire process in his head one last time as he had run after her, trying to figure out exactly _what_ was making the story lack any sense, it had come to him—that perhaps Sakura Kinomoto had fallen for him the way he had fallen for her. Because if she had, then perhaps that was why she had wanted him to stay with her when she was ill. If she had, then that would explain why she looked so forlorn, even after she had supposedly gotten what she had wanted. And if she had indeed fallen for him, then, really, she hadn't gotten what she had wanted at all. And that would mean that all these weeks since the incident, she had been suffering something similar to what Syaoran had been suffering... And he had had no idea.

To his surprise, he felt somewhat sorry for her.

But on the other hand, he still felt indignant that she had waited so long to tell him. He couldn't correct her, because he agreed—it was cowardly and selfish to have waited for so long. So hadn't she brought this upon herself?

Hadn't she?

"_I didn't know how I was supposed to tell you something that would hurt you..."_

That was what she had said. While it didn't sound entirely selfish, it also sounded like an excuse. He knew that he was no model of honesty, either; after all, both of them had started the relationship the same way. He, however, had told her as soon as he had begun to realize that things were getting dangerous; and that was where she had faltered. But still—when she could have told him the truth, that it had been real, that she had fallen for him in the process of the deception, she hadn't. Why?

He glanced at her; she had drawn her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them, staring at the ground, presumably waiting for him to say something. He knew her. Sakura was hard on herself, undeniably so; she had mentioned the suffering she had endured, that glass shard she had described, as "punishment" for what she had done. So had she withheld the truth from him because she didn't feel like she deserved to tell him?

With a sigh, Syaoran stood up and held out a hand to help Sakura up as well. Hesitantly, she took it, and when she stood up, Syaoran held onto her hand for a moment longer than necessary before dropping it. He took a few steps back.

"I need to get home," he murmured.

"Syaoran..."

He looked at her, and although his expression was not unkind, it made her want to cry all over again. There was a small smile on his face, but it was unbearably vulnerable, almost uncertain. Sakura felt a rush of familiarity from it; it was akin to the look he'd worn right when he had heard the truth from Mai.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, and she clenched a fist to hold back the torrent of emotions she felt.

Syaoran stood before her, still silent; after what seemed like a moment's hesitation, he stepped forward, and much to Sakura's shock, he kissed her softly, briefly, atop her head. And with no words to acknowledge that he had even heard a word Sakura had said to him, he began the walk home.

Sakura stood in her place for a few moments longer, unable to separate her feelings of long-awaited relief from her immense confusion or the bitter sadness that slowly started to seep through her system.

* * *

"So what are you doing at home on a Friday night, anyway?"

"I could say the same for you," Eriol said, suppressing a grin, even though he knew Tomoyo couldn't see his face over the phone. He lay back on his bed, staring idly up at the ceiling.

In the last few days, he and Tomoyo had conversed for at least an hour on the phone every night. Eriol had been enjoying their witty conversations, and they provided some much welcome humor and excitement into his daily life, which had been, as of late, rather mundane. Never mind that she hadn't actually brought up the issue of Sakura and Syaoran, or why they had so abruptly stopped talking to each other before... And that she hadn't suggested they meet in person yet. Only when he was very honest with himself could Eriol admit that it bothered him some, but in all actuality, he was just so happy to be speaking with her again that he put it in the back of his mind for the most part. He did seek her out at school sometimes, but their schedules completely conflicted, and he was usually clear on the opposite side of the building from her for most of the day.

"Whatever, I'm not the one who's all popular, Mr. I-throw-wild-parties-at-my-castle-mansion," Tomoyo teased from the other end of the line.

Eriol laughed. "That was hardly a _wild_ party, Tomoyo. And in my defense, I haven't had one since then." As he continued, his tone became slightly more serious. "Things are a little different now... We're not all that interested in all of that anymore, you know?"

"'We'?"

"Yeah, well... Syaoran's never been interested in it that much, I suppose. And now he's not, more than ever. Yamazaki and I used to go to a lot of those parties or throw them ourselves, but I don't know. In the last few months, it was just kind of an unspoken agreement that none of us wanted to do that anymore. We have bigger things to worry about, I guess."

"Like what?"

"I don't know... Yamazaki is pretty serious about Chiharu now, and you know how Syaoran's been ever since everything happened with Sakura." He paused, wondering if she would mention anything about meeting up, as she had originally proposed, to finally discuss that particular relationship.

But it seemed Tomoyo's mind was focused more on their own. "And you?" she said, her voice suddenly quieter.

"Me?" Eriol didn't know what to say. After all this silence, he couldn't possibly be so up front about what had been distracting _him_ so much lately. _Besides_, he thought, _it's not like she doesn't already know, right?_

"Er... Tomoyo... Are we ever going to meet up? To talk about everything?" he finally managed to ask, hoping that this wouldn't somehow provoke another long gap in communication. He heard Tomoyo sigh.

"Yeah... I've been putting it off because I've been nervous," Tomoyo admitted, the coyness in her voice gone. "But I suppose it should happen soon, because that's what I said we'd do, huh?"

"I mean, we don't have to," Eriol said quickly, backtracking. "You don't need to do anything you don't want to, we could just keep doing this till we're eighty years old, for all I care."

Tomoyo giggled. "No, no. It's a little ridiculous of me to have called you with such a gimmick and to not have delivered yet." She paused. "Since we're both at home doing nothing tonight... Are you able to go out?"

Eriol sat up. "Tonight?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry if it's too sudden, we can always meet up sometime later—"

"No, tonight is fine. Would you like for me to pick you up?" Eriol said, trying not to sound too eager.

"Sure, that would be great."

Eriol grinned. "All right, I'll be there soon."

"Okay," Tomoyo said, and Eriol thought he could hear her smiling.

Just as he was about to hang up, he remembered something. "Wait, Tomoyo," he called, hoping she hadn't hung up yet.

"Hm?"

He sighed in relief. "So... How exactly do I get to your house?"

* * *

Meiling groaned as she watched Ryuji knock over a key chess piece.

"Checkmate," he said, grinning.

Earlier in the evening, Meiling had wandered downstairs into the living room where Ryuji sat reading, peeved and looking for something to do. She had originally planned on going to a party with Mai and Naoko, but both had bailed last-minute—Mai wasn't feeling up to it ("When did you get so anti-social?" Meiling had muttered before hanging up), and Naoko had decided to stay in and work on a scholarship essay so she wouldn't have to cram and finish it over the weekend. Ryuji, to Meiling's surprise, had somewhat sympathized, saying—albeit without really seeming to care—that he had planned on going out for drinks with his friends but that he had ended up having to schedule an early-morning appointment with a client the next day, so he'd had to cancel. Meiling had shrugged and flicked on the television, and both had sat uncomfortably in the room for awhile, as far apart from each other on the leather sofa as possible, until Ryuji had set his book down and asked her if she wanted to play chess. Naturally, they were both very competitive; but Ryuji was impeccably good at the game, and he had beaten Meiling twice out of three very long, intense games.

She stood up, yawning. "Well, aren't you cool, winning a game of chess against a seventeen-year-old girl on a Friday night?"

"It's funny that you use your age as a shield when you're usually so desperate to be treated as an adult," Ryuji shot back, packing up the chessboard and pieces. He headed toward the kitchen, and Meiling glared at his back before she followed.

As of late, a strange peace had settled between them; the bickering had not changed by any means, but Meiling no longer felt any sense of hostility towards Ryuji, and Ryuji no longer picked up on any hostility, either. In turn, Ryuji had dropped the sense of superiority he'd had in the early weeks of his arrival in Meiling's household. Meiling had gotten used to his presence by now, even coming to expect it when she returned from school. When either was bored, small talk between each other became common, and there was almost a mutual sense of alliance between them, especially now that Ryuji knew firsthand of the poor relationship between Meiling and her father.

The brief conversation she and Ryuji had had in the kitchen days before had been the closest they'd gotten to discussing it—and Meiling preferred to keep it that way—but it seemed he hadn't needed words to understand the difficulty of the situation, and although she would never admit it out loud, Meiling felt comfort in Ryuji's presence in the wake of her father's neglect.

As for her father himself, he had acted, much to Meiling's frustration, as if the argument between them had never happened. Granted, this meant that he didn't punish Meiling for yelling or act any more negatively towards her, but she almost wished that he would. It was infuriating beyond words to her that she had finally cracked and her father hadn't even bothered to recognize it, let alone deal with it.

She sighed as she sat at the island counter, her chin in her hand. Ryuji looked over at her as he stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

"You're a strange one, I hope you know that," he said, sitting down across from her as he waited for the popcorn.

"Strange?" she said, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"Your moods shift so quickly and unpredictably."

Her frown grew deeper, and her voice was indignant as she spoke. "They do not!"

Ryuji merely laughed, his deep voice filling up the quiet kitchen. "See, there you go. When you came down to the living room, you were sulky. When we played chess, you were so cutthroat, and then when you lost, you tried to act all nonchalant, but you followed me into the kitchen like a lost puppy. And then I turn around and you're sitting here all forlornly, sighing and looking like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and then I open my mouth and you suddenly turn into an angry lion again."

Meiling smirked. "I guess that means you shouldn't open your mouth, then, huh?"

The microwave beeped, and Ryuji got up and grabbed the popcorn, setting it on the island between the two of them. "Ouch," he said mockingly.

Meiling rolled her eyes, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Whatever. Who do you think you are, anyway, my psychotherapist?"

"No, but I could get you one. I've been telling you since the day we met each other that you need one, anyway."

Meiling threw her popcorn at him, making him laugh. She had to resist the urge to smile herself. "Let's go see what's on TV," she said, grabbing the bag of popcorn and marching out of the room.

"Hey, that's my—" Ryuji sighed and followed her, knowing it'd be useless trying to steal the bag back and figuring he didn't have anything else to do, anyway.

They both settled down on the sofa in the living room once more, once again on completely opposite sides. After arguing over what to watch for ten minutes or so, they both decided on a movie about which they both felt rather lukewarm but had decided to watch since they were finally agreeing on something. Another ten minutes later, Ryuji reached around for the popcorn, forgetting for a moment that Meiling had it, all the way on the other side of the sofa. Sighing, he scooted over to her side.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Meiling said, pushing him away.

"Quit, would you? Do you act like a four-year-old around all guys? I don't have cooties," he muttered, reaching into the bag of popcorn in her hand.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she snapped. "Go back to your side. I have a personal bubble."

"Then you shouldn't have stolen my popcorn," he said, shrugging as he munched.

Meiling sighed. "You're making this movie an incredibly unenjoyable experience."

"Give me the popcorn and I'll go back."

"No! I'm hungry."

"Fine, then. I guess I'm staying here," Ryuji said, making an exaggerated show of settling in beside Meiling on the sofa.

Meiling glared, but she didn't argue any further as Ryuji grinned at his victory.

As they sat back and watched the movie, both grew less rigid, less tense over time; eventually, even though the bag of popcorn was empty, neither moved. As the credits rolled, signaling the end of the film, both had fallen fast asleep, still sitting right beside each other.

* * *

Tomoyo stepped out of the car, a confident stride to her step; in stark contrast was Eriol, who looked around bewilderedly as he locked the car.

"A park? Isn't it a little late?" he said, scratching his head.

As it was pitch-black and slightly windy, the swing set creaked somewhat ominously in the breeze, further emphasizing the silence and emptiness of the park.

"Exactly! There are no people here, which makes it a perfect talking place," Tomoyo said, heading over to the penguin-shaped slide. "Sakura told me about this park. It's called King Penguin Park. It was like a second home to her when she was a child, she said."

She walked over to the swings and sat on one; Eriol walked behind her and pushed her swing gently, still confused but deciding to go along with it.

"This is nice," Tomoyo murmured, leaning her head against the chain of the swing.

"It is," Eriol agreed.

Although they had been with each other for at least twenty minutes now, Eriol still felt the initial thrill he'd felt when she had first stepped into his car. After not having seen her up close or having spoken to her in person for so long, she appeared more angelic to him than ever, and her voice was the most soothing thing he'd heard in a long time. He had spent the first few minutes trying to keep in mind that they were meeting up to discuss important matters, but after a few minutes with her sitting beside him in the car, he had given up entirely and simply drank in her presence instead.

But now that they were here, how could he simply ignore what had brought them together? Tomoyo had said herself that that was why they were meeting in the first place.

"Tomoyo," he started, breaking the peaceful silence. He continued to push the swing.

"I know," she responded, surprising him. "I guess it's time to finally talk about it."

Stopping the swing with her feet, Tomoyo stood up and faced him, her hands clasped behind her back, the swing still creaking gently between the two of them. "First," she said, her voice quiet, "I wanted to say I'm sorry for not speaking to you for so long. It was... immature of me, to say the least."

Eriol shook his head. "No, it's fine. I wanted to give you your space, anyway, what with your boyfriend and all—"

"Well, that's the other thing," Tomoyo said quickly. "Ken isn't my boyfriend anymore."

It took Eriol a moment to process the words. "Wait—what?"

"I broke up with him awhile ago," she said, thankful that Eriol couldn't see her hands tightening around each other behind her back. "I guess the distance was taking a toll on him, and we ended up drifting apart."

"Oh," Eriol managed, feeling stupid; but he couldn't find anything else to say, not when his body had gone stiff at her words. What did this mean? "Are you all right?"

Tomoyo nodded vigorously. "I'm fine. It's still weird, but... It felt like it wasn't meant to be, anyway."

"That's good, that you're okay. I'm glad."

She looked as though she were about to say something else, but Eriol caught her sudden change in expression, indicating that she was abruptly switching topics. "And... Regarding Sakura and Syaoran, she's still very much in love with him, and I think we should work to at least get them to talk to each other," she said as matter-of-factly as she could.

This bit did not surprise him; before they had stopped interacting entirely, Eriol had caught Syaoran looking at Sakura, if only for a quarter of a second, out of the corner of his eye every so often. He had more frequently caught Sakura, who was not as stealthy—or perhaps not as ashamed—as Syaoran was, in the act as well.

"Right," Eriol said, more confused than ever. He had expected more of a talk, something more drawn out than this—but really, she had gotten business out of the way, hadn't she?

As if she read his thoughts, Tomoyo turned around and sat back down on the swing, relieved that Eriol couldn't see her expression. Feeling him pushing the swing gently once more, she sighed to herself. She had thought she could handle telling him everything—how she had broken up with Ken and dreamt not of him but rather of Eriol at night, how she wanted badly to retract her once-expressed desire not to fall for him, how she wanted to start over as if nothing had happened—but upon seeing him in person, Tomoyo had felt that she'd lost her breath. But she had promised him a talk, and so she had told him what she could—the basics, with no frills—she was a single girl now, she was okay with that (she thought), and she needed to help her best friend. She was both relieved that she had managed to get that much out and disappointed that she wasn't brave enough to tell him everything else. She felt like a fool.

Tomoyo came out of her thoughts when she no longer felt the pressure of his hands on the chains of the swing. For a brief moment, she wondered if Eriol had left her in the middle of her reverie. And then, suddenly, she felt his fingers gently brushing the hair away from the back of her neck, and she froze, her entire body completely rigid.

As Eriol bent down, his lips lingering just over the nape of her neck, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. She had not explained much, but she had said just enough—Tomoyo had called him out, and Eriol assumed it was not just to say that she had broken up with her boyfriend. But what she had left unsaid, he felt he had read in her eyes; Eriol was not the presumptuous type by any means, but he trusted the impressions he got from reading people. There was something lonely about Tomoyo's expression just before she had sat back down, and he wanted to set it right. While gut instinct had told him to run with it, for once, his mind did not resist the idea much, either. At this point, rejection would not hurt him; it would only serve to end things for good, and at least that way, he figured, he could live in peace. And so he had found his hands wandering from the chains of the swing to her shoulders, and then to the soft cascade of hair that covered her neck...

Tomoyo shivered as she felt his breath hovering over her, unable to find any words to question the action, and there was a pause that seemed to last for years. And then, all of a sudden, she was set aflame as Eriol's lips brushed against her neck, the edge of her collarbone at her shoulder. Coherent thoughts completely gone, she turned around, following nothing but her own knee-jerk reaction. The chains of the swing rattled as she met his lips with her own, crashing them against his.

In each other's kiss, both felt what they needed to feel—he confirmation that he had done the right thing, that this was what she had wanted; and she acceptance, that he understood and, miraculously, she thought, shared her own desire.

There would be plenty of time, both figured, for worded explanations later on.

* * *

Sakura lay face down in her bed, trying in vain to block the constant inflow of images passing before her mind's eye. Syaoran, Syaoran, Syaoran. Was this how first loves really were? Was one doomed to remember that love forever, not as a cherished memory but as something roughly hewn and jagged, something that brought about waves of different regrets?

She sighed as she flopped over, wondering exactly what she was supposed to do now. He had left her without any indication as to how he had felt about any of the things she'd said; how was she to know if he had been further angered by it or, God forbid, understood and perhaps even forgiven her?

_That's wishful thinking_, she thought, shaking her head to clear such ideas out of her mind.

But if anything, he had not seemed angry. Even before her explanation, he was not angry. He had been distant and cold, and then he had seemed concerned. And she couldn't call his reaction to her explanation unresponsive. Rather, it seemed he'd had nothing to say, but he did not want to leave her completely without a clue... And so he had kissed her hair.

So was it a hint as to how he felt? Gentle, perhaps even accepting?

Sakura was frightened to think such things, for if there was anything she'd learned from the last few months, it was that the higher her hopes took her, the harder she fell.

* * *

Over the weekend, Syaoran drove himself crazy thinking about the situation at hand; if he had thought himself obsessive in the days leading up to his confrontation with Sakura, then he didn't know what to call this new condition he was in.

Literally every movement he made throughout the day somehow led him back to Sakura—every breath he took, every thought that crossed his mind, anything upon which his eyes landed, anything at all made him think of her, the conversation they'd had, her actions, his own _re_actions.

Ultimately, he knew what the issue was—what he wanted conflicted quite heavily with what he figured was good for him. It had come down to this: there was no denying that Syaoran Li was still in love with Sakura Kinomoto. Every fiber of his being yearned to be with her, all of his thoughts were directed towards her, and it had taken some kind of ungodly power that Syaoran hadn't even known he'd possessed to resist grabbing her and kissing her as soon as she'd confessed her love.

But that was the thing; the part of him that had resisted kissing her was prominent enough to hold him back. It was wrong—even if she had planned on telling him, there was no excuse for having waited for so long. How could she possibly have thought that waiting longer would be a good idea in the first place? It was wrong, it was wrong, he repeated to himself. But often, he'd nearly drive himself insane by following up that mantra with, "Wasn't it?"

A great deal of him wanted more than anything to put all of his trust in her again. He imagined being with her, being happy with her, spending the upcoming summer with her, and he would find his hand wandering to his phone and even scrolling down to her name on his contact list. It was only when his thumb hovered over the "call" button that he would remember—even if it had been real, as Sakura had said, even she felt that the truth did not change anything—and in frustration, he'd toss the phone back onto his desk, listening to it clatter and falling back onto his bed.

Finally, after the second night in a row in which he'd had more trouble sleeping than usual, he surprised himself, finally coming to the conclusion that, for once, he could not possibly figure this out alone.

* * *

"And I can't explain it any more than that, really," Syaoran said, leaning forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees. "I don't know _what_ I'm supposed to do... Well, I mean, I know what I'm _supposed_ to do, I just—"

"But what you want to do doesn't agree at all with what you're supposed to do, huh?" Eriol said, trying to hide the grin on his face. He hadn't further discussed the issue of Sakura and Syaoran with Tomoyo since they'd met, but he'd have to tell her that their job was about to get ten times easier.

"Can I just interrupt all the serious talk for a moment and express my immense joy and pride that the great, independent, I-can-do-everything-myself Syaoran Li is willingly asking us for—ow, ow, ow!" Yamazaki wore a goofy smile on his face as he rubbed his head from where Syaoran had smacked him. "It's been a long time since you've done that. I kind of missed it."

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "It's been a long time coming. You're lucky I've had bigger things on my plate, or I'd probably have given you a concussion by now."

The three were cooped up in the theater in Syaoran's house, a movie playing on the large screen on the wall but set to low volume, as none of them were really watching. Syaoran had called both Yamazaki and Eriol over for dinner and, too surprised to say no or commit to their prior engagements, both had, for all intents and purposes, dropped everything they were doing and rushed over. It was the first time in months that Syaoran was the one to initiate any kind of get-together between them. After they had eaten and headed into the theater, Syaoran had almost immediately launched into the issue at hand, figuring—quite correctly—that they knew him well enough to figure that he'd called them over for a reason.

Eriol reached around for the remote and pressed a button to turn off the movie and turn on the lights. After doing so, he adjusted his glasses and looked Syaoran in the eye as he spoke. "Look. Ultimately, it's your decision—no one can tell you which one is right and which one is wrong, because that's up to you to decide. And don't worry about what will be the 'correct' thing. Whatever you end up doing, as long as it's what you really want to do, is the correct. No one can tell you otherwise. That said, based on what you've been saying..." He shrugged. "The answer seems pretty self-explanatory. I'll leave it there."

Syaoran scowled; he'd been hoping for a less vague answer, but he knew Eriol was right—how could they decide for him? It was a foolish hope. He looked over expectantly at Yamazaki, who scratched his head with a sheepish look on his face.

"You know how I am... I don't really have the common sense for this kind of stuff, so don't take my words too much to heart," he said, grinning. "But it sounds like what you're 'supposed' to do is based on what people in general would tell you to do—like our classmates or bystanders who didn't have any real involvement with the issue. But... Syaoran, when have you ever cared what anyone else thinks?"

Syaoran could only look back at Yamazaki in shock—the answer had hit him much harder than he'd expected—before Yamazaki looked up at the clock on the wall and sighed. "Ah, well, I gotta go. I told Chiharu I'd go over and study with her for the exam we have Tuesday and it's already getting pretty late. Dinner was so good," he said, a dreamy look coming over his face as he remembered the heaps of food that the cooks had brought out.

Syaoran grinned good-naturedly. "Yeah, well, thanks for telling me, but I'd probably already have been able to tell, considering how many plates of seconds you got."

Eriol stood up, too, clapping his hand on Syaoran's shoulder. "I should probably head out as well. But I hope what we said helped in some way or another, even if we didn't make any kind of decision for you. Let us know whatever you decide."

Syaoran nodded, watching the two head out the door, Yamazaki practically shouting his goodbyes.

He sighed. It was clear which decision Eriol and Yamazaki preferred him to make, but even so, they had left him to his own devices in the end, letting him know that whatever he decided to do, they would support. And even there, Syaoran could see what Yamazaki was saying—he could see that this train of thought was driven by what he thought his friends might want him to do. Yamazaki was right; when _had_ he ever cared what anyone else thought?

He was scared, he realized; if things didn't turn out the way he hoped they would, then at least he could say that someone else had influenced his decision, that he hadn't been so stupid entirely on his own. _Well, _that's _not cowardly or anything,_ he thought dryly to himself. Running a hand over his face, he stood up and wandered to the kitchen to get a glass of water before heading up to his room for the night.

"Good evening, Master Li," Wei said, standing behind the counter and drying off plates.

"Oh, Wei, I didn't expect to see you here so late. I can take care of those, if you want to go to bed," Syaoran responded, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before sitting down at the counter.

"No, it's all right. I'm quite capable," he said, smiling. "I thought your friends were here for the night?"

"They had things to do," Syaoran said, shrugging. He took a sip of water and sat in silence for awhile, watching Wei dry dishes. It wasn't, by any means, an uncomfortable silence; Wei was patient and perceptive, and so while he could anticipate that Syaoran wanted to talk about something important, he did not prod.

Finally, Syaoran let out a long exhale and smiled a little, knowing that Wei could tell something was wrong. "Wei... When someone lies to you about something really important, your gut reaction is anger, right?"

Wei thought for a moment before answering. "I think I'm more prone to sadness than to anger, Master Li. But you're right, I certainly wouldn't feel good about it."

"Or... Or what if this person didn't necessarily lie to you but withheld the truth? A really important truth that could have potentially changed everything had it been said sooner."

"Might I ask why this person withheld the truth from you?"

"I guess because she didn't want to hurt my feelings... But what's the difference between that and not telling me because she didn't want me to get angry at her? Isn't that selfish?"

Wei smiled. "So this person is a 'she?' Is it in her nature to lie or to shy away from anger—even if it is righteous anger?"

"No, she's not really a liar... And I can't say she would like it if I got angry, but... I guess I can't see her holding something so important back from me just because she thought I'd get upset with her. But still, the magnitude of it... I don't know. I can't justify it, and it's driving me insane."

"Well, you are right—sometimes, there is no difference between the two. But in some instances, there is." Wei set down the dish he was drying and put both of his hands on the counter, leaning forward slightly. "Sometimes, Master Li, we become so lost in trying to protect someone from the truth that we forget that, more often than not, the truth is our saving grace. It's not a justification, necessarily... But it is an explanation. And a valid one, at that."

Syaoran felt the small smile creep back up on his face. "So... If I were to forgive this person... It wouldn't be a stupid mistake?"

Wei picked up the last dish. "That, Master Li, is for you to decide. But if you've given it this much deliberation, I'd say whatever decision you make, as long as it's what you truly think is right—not just in your mind, but in your heart as well—it couldn't possibly be a 'stupid mistake.'"

He finished drying the dish, placed the towel on the rack beside the dishwasher, and washed his hands. "Well, I believe I am done for the evening. See you tomorrow morning, Master Li."

Bowing, Wei left the room.

Syaoran trudged back up to his room with his glass of water, his head heavy with all the words that had been exchanged over the evening.

Everything had been building up to this point, and now that it was here, he felt like he was teetering over the edge of a cliff—if he forced himself to step back, he would most certainly be safe. There was comfort in that. But he wouldn't know what was below him unless he jumped, and it seemed that everyone he had spoken to wanted to push him forward. He was only frightened that he wouldn't land.

Reaching his room, he walked in and closed the door, turning on only the dim lamp on his nightstand.

The words of the evening came back to him in crashes, leaving him only briefly and then hurtling forward once more, washing his brain of all of the uptight, sensible logic that had dominated his way of thinking for so long.

"_Sometimes, Master Li, we become so lost in trying to protect someone from the truth that we forget that, more often than not, the truth is our saving grace."_

"_The answer seems pretty self-explanatory. I'll leave it there."_

"_But... Syaoran, when have you ever cared what anyone else thinks?"_

Now was the time to decide, he thought. And now, more than ever, he wished some kind of answer would fall from the sky, perhaps written on a piece of paper—"do it" or "don't do it."

"Fuck," Syaoran muttered to himself, sitting on his bed.

With a shaking hand, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and, like many times in the days before, found Sakura's name on the contacts list. He hit the "call" button and held the phone to his hear, listening to the rings and willing himself not to hang up.

"Hello?"

* * *

Cliffhanger, I know I do this a lot! -dodges rocks- But I think we all kind of know what's going to happen, ultimately, haha. I really hope you guys liked it! This one was even shorter lengthwise than the last chapter, but there were a lot of longer paragraphs, so I believe the word count is a good bit higher. I hope that makes up for it XD Anyway, a lot happened here. I tried to put in some bits of comic relief here and there, but overall, it was a pretty heavy chapter, huh? Eriol and Tomoyo are finally together, though! (Somewhat. They haven't really confirmed what they are.) I know the way they got together was a little strange, especially with the lack of dramatic confrontation, but I figured there was enough of that between Sakura and Syaoran for four couples in this chapter, so I left ExT alone. XD Meiling and Ryuji are headed... somewhere, God knows where exactly yet. But they're certainly getting along a bit better now, wouldn't you say? As for Sakura and Syaoran, Syaoran just needs to make that big leap. And for once, I think Sakura will be the one to catch _him, _haha. Okay, I won't be long before the next chapter, I think! Thanks so much for reading, and please leave a review!

Love,

boreum dal


	18. Blurred Lines

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everybody! So, I took a bit longer than I meant to with this next chapter, but it is a good bit longer than the last two I posted, so I hope that makes up for it! That said, I am still updating within the month, which many of you know is a huge accomplishment for me. XD Once again, thank you for the lovely reviews! I didn't do individual responses this time, but **in the final chapter, I'm thinking about doing some kind of shout-out at the end. **Speaking of the final chapter... It's not too far away now! The chapter after this will be the last actual chapter, and then I am posting an epilogue. I can't believe it's going to be over ;-; You guys have been some of the **best reviewers** anyone could ask for, as so many of you always leave meaningful, helpful reviews that never fail to touch me. I really owe all of you. Thanks so much. Enjoy chapter!

**Chapter 18: **Blurred Lines

"Sakura."

Sakura had already felt her heart drop into her stomach when she'd seen that Syaoran was calling her; but now that she'd heard his voice, the effect seemed to have spread everywhere. Her palms were suddenly very clammy, and upon a wave of lightheadedness, Sakura fell back into the chair beside her desk.

"H—hey," she managed. "Er... What's up?"

"Are you busy?" Syaoran sounded solemn; Sakura didn't know why this increased her nerves, since he was almost always this way, but it did.

"No, not particularly. Just finishing up some homework," she responded, trying desperately to sound normal—as though she _hadn't_ been thinking about him nonstop since they'd last met.

"Okay."

She heard him sigh, and Sakura vaguely wondered if he was nervous, too—and then she quickly erased the thought from her mind. Who was she kidding? Of course he wasn't.

"So..." Syaoran said, his voice quiet. "I wanted to talk about the other day, all the things you told me."

Sakura felt her breath hitch. After days of wondering about his lack of a reaction, the thought of his even acknowledging the issue made her incredibly excited—and it scared her out of her mind.

"O—okay," she said, her own voice quiet as well, irritatingly so. "What exactly did you want to talk about?"

"I know I kind of left things up in the air... I'm sorry about that."

"It's all right," Sakura responded, feeling her full weight sinking deeper and deeper into the chair—there was a relief in talking to him like this, and yet, it took so much energy out of her to even speak a few words. "I know that it was an earful."

"Yeah," Syaoran said, and to Sakura's surprise, he seemed to chuckle. "Certainly one of the more memorable conversations of my life."

"Yeah, sorry about that... I didn't mean to unload all of it so quickly, all at once."

"It's fine. I actually really..." He paused, and then he continued, his voice seeming to grow slightly louder. "I really appreciated it. It cleared up a lot. It made me think about everything. I only saw everything from one angle before. But I mean... Now, it's pretty clear I wasn't the only one hurting. And I did take your apology to heart." He sighed. "I wanted to say I'm sorry, too. For assuming things, for not getting the whole story beforehand... For leaving you like that after you'd exhausted yourself explaining everything to me. I just didn't know how to handle it."

Sakura was completely blindsided by the sudden friendliness in his voice—but more than that, she was made near speechless by the sincerity she heard. After a moment's silence, she found her own voice. "N—no, no, you have no reason to apologize! I was the one who... If I hadn't been so stupid, neither of us would've had to gone through all of this, you know? And... Maybe you would have been happier..."

She bit her lip, unable to say more. She feared that if she voiced any of her thoughts—primarily that he had regretted meeting her and subsequently having been put through such an emotional hell these last few months—he would agree. It was the last thing she needed; if they could just end this on a good note—and Sakura dared to think that they might—she could draw up the will to be satisfied.

But then there was silence on the other end of the line, and Sakura feared she had ended her words at too awkward a place to answer. And so then, she found herself doing the opposite, rambling and saying whatever first came to mind so she wouldn't appear so pathetic. "I just meant that... I mean, I certainly don't regret meeting you, and I meant it when I told you I really did enjoy most of our time together, but I'm just saying that maybe _you _regret everything, even meeting me, and I guess I understand if you do—"

"Sakura."

Sakura shook her head as if Syaoran could see her and kept going. It had to be one extreme or the other—either complete silence or too many words to let him get one in edgewise—or he'd confirm her fears. "It would only make sense, after all, because if you hadn't met me or gone out with me or if I hadn't been the first person to ask you out, then you wouldn't have gone out with someone who'd lied to you for so long and you wouldn't have had to go through so much—"

"Sakura," he said softly. "Stop."

She did, startled and out of breath. She was surprised to find that tears had formed in her eyes, and she hurriedly blinked them back.

"What?" she whispered.

"Sakura, I don't regret having met you. I never once said anything like that. Maybe I'm a little glad... that all of this happened."

Sakura had no idea how to respond to something so far beyond her expectations—it was as though he kept dealing one blow after another after another out of nowhere.

"We've both been pretty stupid about all of this. It's been a long enough time now, don't you think? Do you wanna put this behind us?" Syaoran's voice was gruff, but Sakura knew it well enough to detect a hint of softness in it, and she felt immense appreciation and relief at it.

"Put it behind us?"

"Yes. I'd like to be friends, you know."

For some reason, Sakura found herself slightly disappointed at the word, although she knew that she was lucky to even be on a speaking basis with him. So she buried the disappointment, which was only minor, anyway, and sighed, a smile forming on her face.

"That would be so nice."

* * *

Syaoran stared at the phone in his hand and ran his other hand through his hair.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered to himself.

On the one hand, he'd exceeded his own expectations—no nervous stumbling over his own words, and he'd said everything he'd wanted to say and nothing he hadn't wanted to say. That was good. But he couldn't decide whether or not he was satisfied with the direction in which the conversation had gone; after all they had been through, he felt that this was, for lack of a better word, anticlimactic. Friends? After everything, he had asked her to be _friends_?

Then again, what could he have said otherwise? A million reasons why "_I love you, too, let's get back together_" simply would not work popped into his mind. For one thing, over the phone, no matter how intense the words were, everything _sounded_ a bit... lackluster. If Syaoran ever wanted to get around to telling Sakura the truth, it would be face-to-face. And for another, it seemed as though there was a time and place for such a declaration—emphasis on the time. For some reason, Syaoran felt that this time was not it.

Perhaps it was because, in spite of everything, he really was still scared—if he took the risk and ended up making the wrong decision, he'd have no one but himself to blame. And more than that, he simply did not want to go through all of the craziness—the hurt, the confusion, the obsession—again. Nothing he'd ever faced had been more exhausting or more frightening. And even after everyone had hinted to him that it would be okay to trust Sakura again, they had also told him outright that he should go with his gut—and as of right now, his gut was not particularly keen on trusting anyone again for awhile.

Grimacing at his cowardice, he sighed and headed to the shower. At least he'd established something, a friendship, with her. That was a start...

But there certainly wasn't a _click_.

* * *

Sakura pulled on her coat and tied back her hair, trying to keep a foolish grin off of her face all the while. Right after she'd gotten off of the phone with Syaoran, she had phoned Tomoyo, explaining, until Tomoyo had cut her off and insisted she immediately come over to explain details in person. Running down the stairs, she stopped by her father's room to explain she was heading to Tomoyo's for a bit; although he was reluctant to let her go because school was the next day, he'd eventually waved it off and told her with a smile to have fun.

Sakura raced the few blocks down to Tomoyo's house, thankful that the air wasn't so chilly anymore, now that spring was starting to inch its way into Tomoeda. Knocking on the door as she reached the doorstep, she nearly jumped back in shock when it opened milliseconds after her first knock.

"What _took_ you so long, I've been waiting for you!" Tomoyo said, squealing as she pulled a laughing Sakura inside.

"It's only been a few minutes. I got here as fast as I could!" Sakura replied sheepishly, following Tomoyo up the stairs and to her room.

"Okay. So tell me everything from the start," Tomoyo said, sitting Sakura down on the bed, her eyes dancing.

And so Sakura detailed her encounter with Syaoran, revealing the whole truth to him, all the way up until the phone conversation she had just had with him. She described the entire situation as relieving, sudden, and strange—all of which were true—but she decided to leave out how stupid everything had made her feel.

Tomoyo's reaction was predictable—she squealed and hugged Sakura, telling her that this was "the next step." "You'll be together again soon and all will be right with the world!" she exclaimed, stars in her eyes.

Sakura laughed it off, waving her hands as though that would eliminate the idea. "I don't want to get ahead of myself." She sighed. "I'm lucky to even be getting this chance, you know."

Tomoyo pursed her lips as she stared at her cousin's profile. "In all seriousness, Sakura, do you think you can handle being just friends with him? Your guys' relationship didn't necessarily blossom from a friendship, so it can't exactly go _back_ to a friendship, you know?"

Sakura nodded, suddenly feeling a bit heavier. Her voice was hesitant. "That's true. I did think about it... It is going to be hard, I bet. I don't know what to expect, and I'll probably always want more."

"And you'll be okay with that?"

"Isn't it better than not talking to him at all?" Sakura said back, but Tomoyo saw much uncertainty in her expression.

"I think either way would be hard," Tomoyo said gently, and Sakura's face fell even more.

"But," Tomoyo added, "I don't think fate hands you anything that you can't handle. Something good will happen. Maybe you guys will become good friends, and you'll end up building a different kind of foundation!"

Sakura sighed, and she managed a smile. "You think so?"

Tomoyo nodded. "Yep. But in the meantime—have you figured out when you're going to talk to him next?"

"Eh?" Sakura sat up a bit straighter at that. "No... I didn't even really think about that, actually," she mumbled. "What if he never talks to me? What if he expects me to start it?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"It's a scary thought, still," Sakura responded, her voice sheepish. "I should've asked him or something—"

"No, no," Tomoyo interrupted. "It's almost better this way. It'll be a sort of test."

"A test?"

"To see how badly he wants it. I think if he means what he said, he'll come to you. And if he doesn't, just give him some time."

Sakura nodded. It did make sense... But the thought of him not living up to this test made her incredibly nervous.

* * *

Syaoran sat in a daze as the boys around him chattered noisily. Lunch period, Monday. It had been less than twenty-four hours since he had asked Sakura Kinomoto if they could be friends once more, and he had thought of her enough since then to fill a lifetime.

Thankfully, he had not seen her yet; if he had, he wouldn't have known what to do. She usually had this lunch period, but he hadn't seen her make the long walk down the cafeteria. Relieved but slightly disappointed, he'd sat back in his chair and eaten his food without actually tasting it, completely oblivious to any of his surroundings. His eyes had remained glued to the seat in which Sakura usually sat at the far end of the cafeteria, empty and tantalizing.

He grabbed his bottled water, ready to take a swig, but just as he raised it to his lips, he stopped.

Sakura had appeared in the doorway of the cafeteria, not looking at anything in particular.

And then, all of a sudden, Syaoran was not only aware of everything around him, but acutely so. The looks that people were giving her as she walked down the aisle, the things they were saying to her, all _supposedly_ in his honor—whatever the hell that meant—and, most of all, the expression on her face as it occurred. Or, rather the lack of one; for her face was blank. It was only in the way Sakura clutched the book she was carrying tightly against her chest that Syaoran could see how this walk—a daily affair—affected her.

And for the first time in months, he felt something roar to life inside of him at the thought of these people judging her, saying awful things to her and about her when they didn't even know her.

At first, it began as a spark, the words they had said to her igniting the small flame. But then, even after Sakura had sat down and people had returned to their lunches, that flame began to spread rapidly as he realized several things at once. For one, it had been months since the incident had even occurred; surely, the insults and rude looks had been much worse immediately after. Syaoran had initially tuned all of this out purposely, partly out of anger at Sakura and partly because he did not want to be lured into feeling sorry for her again; but had he been so out of it, had he been so successful in his endeavor, that he had completely missed this, even at its severest? And for another, he thought as he watched Sakura open her book and focus all her attention on it, she seemed far too used to it. Indeed, the words did affect her, but she did not seem surprised by any means—almost more exasperated, really—which confirmed his first thoughts.

Syaoran tightened his hand around the water bottle, and the noise of the crushing plastic caused several of the boys around him to turn their heads and stare at him.

"Syaoran?"

He vaguely heard Yamazaki calling his name in concern, but he could not bring himself to respond. His eyes remained trained on Sakura, and several memories seemed to repeat in his head over and over, stringing together and forming a sort of story, until they had filled his head and he could think of nothing else.

"_I'll try to stop them if they say anything nasty about you again." _

_Sakura smiled this time—a real smile, and Syaoran was a little taken aback—he could see something very pretty... Not quite beautiful, but pretty, in her smile. "Thanks, Syaoran." _

He'd failed to secure that promise for quite awhile, though, and when he finally had—albeit a little later than he'd needed to—he had gotten another rare glimpse of a raw, honest Sakura.

"_You really want to know what you did? You left me hanging on a string! The first time we hung out, you_ promised_ that you would make your asshole friends leave me alone. And today, you didn't for awhile, and that guy wouldn't shut up, and the things he said... They were so fucking_ humiliating, _Syaoran! I was scared. I hated it—I hated feeling scared because some jerk was saying things to me, and I couldn't figure out_ why_ it felt so scary..._

"_And then I thought about it some more, and I realized it was because the entire time he was making fun of me, you didn't say a word, and I thought you'd stopped caring. And then... I wondered if you ever really cared at all. But then, you did come through, and you got me out of there, and I felt this incredible gratitude, because you really did live up to your word. But it's so confusing... I'm thankful for it, and then again, I'm angry that you waited that long, and there's still that part of me that wonders if you've cared one bit this entire time... And if you don't, I can't... I can't blame you, because..."_

And then, he remembered his own reaction to those words. He'd sped to her house, his hand clumsily shifting gears as his decisions changed over and over in rapid fashion.

_He was human—it was human of him to care if someone cried and he was the one responsible for it—but this was beyond that. He'd felt something heavier and sharper in the pit of his stomach as he listened to her wonder aloud if he really cared about her, and that was what made him get off the phone and into the car._

He had been foolish, he thought now, in his failure to realize sooner what had been happening to him. For in the same manner that Sakura had been falling for him then, he had been doing the exact same thing. No matter how much he had tried to convince himself that he was better than that, more aware, more graceful, Sakura had essentially pulled him down without even meaning to.

Whispers—as though he couldn't hear with them sitting right beside him.

"Dude, is he all right?"

"I don't know."

"If you slap him, Yamazaki, he might actually kill you this time—"

"Eriol, come on. Even I'm not that stupid. Syaoran? Yoohoo?" Yamazaki waved a hand in front of Syaoran's face as the boys at the table watched, all of them now fully focusing their attention on him.

Once more, Syaoran could not bring himself to respond; instead, he found himself pushing his chair back and standing up, and without saying a word to anyone, he walked over to where Sakura sat.

At first, no one seemed to notice; perhaps they thought he was getting up to get something from the kitchen, or maybe he was headed to the restroom. But when more and more people followed his gaze, so intensely fixed on Sakura, they began to realize exactly where he was going. Syaoran was aware that the room grew quieter and quieter, but it was a realization of little impact—for Yamazaki's words rang true in his head. He had never particularly cared what other people had thought. They could assume what they wanted.

Sakura herself did not become aware of this silence—so engrossed was she in her book—until Syaoran had reached her table and pulled the chair across from her out to sit.

It had occurred to her the night before, after speaking to Tomoyo, that she'd see him at lunch; but she'd figured that taking the initiative would not be the best idea in this case. Various resulting scenarios had run through her head and none of them had ended up particularly well. Syaoran was so unpredictable at this point, and while it was unfair of her to expect the worst from him, it would have been utterly stupid to expect the best. And so, when she had walked into the cafeteria, she had glanced at an impassive Syaoran, quickly averted her eyes before he noticed her, and forced herself to walk down the cafeteria as if nothing had changed. The familiar jeers and calls had started as she'd began to walk, however, and she'd caught herself foolishly keeping an ear open on the off-chance that Syaoran would take notice and perhaps do something. After regaining her composure, though, she had sat down and willed herself to forget, and to her surprise, it had worked. She had opened up her book and successfully shut Syaoran out of her mind.

So of course, now that he sat before her, positively godlike as he sprawled casually in the chair with his hands resting behind his head and his legs extended, Sakura was completely and absolutely caught off-guard. A wary grin flitted briefly across his features as he watched her stare in shock.

"S—Syaoran..." she stuttered.

She bit her lip, forcing herself to keep her eyes on his as her ears finally picked up on the silence around them. He was looking back at her playfully still, and yet, the intensity of his gaze sent her heart into a frenzy. She'd been hoping for so long to see him look at her this way again—as though she were the only person in the room, as though he had to have her then and there or he might just cease to exist—but they were _friends_, she told herself. Friends didn't look at each other that way. _So quit imagining things._

"What are you reading?" he said suddenly, reaching over and grabbing the book out of her limp fingers.

The cafeteria suddenly broke into a frenzy of hushed whispers, and neither Syaoran nor Sakura needed to hear any particular strings of conversation to know what the general sentiment was—_"What on earth is happening?" _Syaoran rolled his eyes at the typical reaction; he wouldn't have been surprised if some of the students scooted their chairs closer to hear his conversation.

"Syaoran," Sakura tried again, swallowing. "What are you—"

"We're friends, remember?" he said, but in spite of the friendly words, the playfulness in his voice was gone, replaced by a solemnity that matched the one in his eyes.

"It's not a big deal. And don't worry about them," he added, jerking his head back towards the rest of the cafeteria. "It's just us at this table."

Sakura was speechless, but she nodded as she felt her face getting hot. She felt ridiculous and silly; friends, he'd said. There was no need to blush over a friend—unless one happened to have a romantic history with that friend. Unless one happened to still be in love with that friend... Unless that friend happened to be very much aware of that. _Stop it. For all you know, he might not even be thinking of that. Maybe you're the only crazy, obsessive one here._

* * *

Yamazaki and Eriol exchanged glances as the entire cafeteria seemed to go dead quiet. Neither were too shocked at Syaoran's actions; both had gotten the idea that he would allow himself to interact with Sakura soon after their talk. On top of that, Eriol had spoken with Tomoyo the previous evening, and she'd told him everything. He would've been more surprised if something hadn't happened.

"This is ridiculous," Eriol muttered to Yamazaki, watching as everyone—the boys at their tables included, seemed to dart their eyes over to where Sakura and Syaoran sat, some even shamelessly full-on staring.

Yamazaki nodded. "Poor guy," he said, jerking his head over to Syaoran and grinning. "He finally decides to do something exciting and the whole world feels the need to watch, huh? Talk about pressure. Maybe that's why he never dated anybody," he joked.

Eriol laughed, and the two caught each other's eyes, exchanged mischievous glances, and simply nodded to each other, both understanding the same idea at once: Syaoran needed a diversion.

"You read my mind. I'll do the honors," Yamazaki said, his voice almost eager. Then, so loudly that his entire table seemed to jump, he began to say the most nonsensical things he could think of.

"Hey, everyone, did you know that the Gundam model creators and the world's best technicians have been working for years to create the first real-life mecha? There's going to be a batch of them, and they're still trying to figure out which national army is going to have them. There's a huge bidding war right now, and it's all very classified—"

Everyone at the table, and a few sitting close by, gaped at the random outburst, but it worked—their attention was off of Sakura and Syaoran. Yamazaki looked over at Eriol, wiggling his eyebrows.

Eriol rolled his eyes and shot him a look that essentially said, "You couldn't start a conversation I can actually participate in? I know nothing about Gundams, Yamazaki. I guess you're on your own," but he was holding in laughter—Yamazaki at his most ridiculous was essentially Yamazaki at his best.

Yamazaki shrugged. "More for me." Turning back to the table, he continued on excitedly. "They predict that by the year 2020, they'll be completely done, and if the product catches on—and let's be honest here, why wouldn't it?—the whole world will probably want to dig in. Granted, they're going to have to take extra precautions not to let it get in the hands of terrorists..."

As he continued, conversation began to spread from his table throughout the cafeteria at a gradual pace, until practically everyone had seemed to break out of their trance and lose interest in Syaoran once more.

After several minutes of chatter, Yamazaki heaved a sigh. "I'm such a good friend," he laughed.

Eriol was impressed. "I didn't think that would actually work. Remind Syaoran next time he tries to hit you."

* * *

Syaoran examined the cover of the book he'd taken from Sakura. "_Shades of Grey_," he said, repeating the title out loud to himself. "Is this any good?" He flipped through the pages, skimming here and there.

Sakura blinked a few times at him, unable to fathom how he could simply switch into casual conversation like this. Wasn't he aware that this was a huge—or, as Tomoyo would put it, a monumental—step for them? _Then again_, she thought, deflating, _it seems like I'm the only one who's making it such a big step. We're friends,_ she repeated to herself. _It's not a big deal. At least, it's not to him. So it shouldn't be to me, either... Right?_

Clearing her throat and recomposing herself, Sakura nodded. "I'm really enjoying it. I started it a few days ago, and I haven't been able to put it down."

Syaoran looked at the page she'd dog-eared. "Page 367 already?" He glanced up at her and smirked. "Well, either it must be as good as you say it is, or you have way too much time on your hands. Probably a little of both, huh?" he said, but his expression was kind, indicating no malice in his teasing.

Sakura chewed on her lower lip, trying not to smile. It was a very sudden way to fall back into the swing of things, she thought, but at least now, there was a consistency in his playfulness. Perhaps she _was_ being overly wary of their situation, and to him, it was just a normal conversation with an old friend. She willed herself to approach it that way as well.

"Maybe it's just that good."

Syaoran theatrically raised an eyebrow. "Really? I was wondering if I should read this or not. I'd heard about it when it came out. Mind if I borrow this after you're done with it?"

Sakura nodded eagerly. "I should be done with it within the week."

"Great. If I end up disliking it, though," he added ominously, "it's on your head."

Sakura laughed. "I hope that you enjoy it, then—if not for your sake, at least for mine."

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "Some things don't change, do they?"

Sakura stared back at him, a confused frown on her face.

He sighed. "Why should it be your fault if I don't enjoy it? You certainly seem to like it. That's all that should matter to you," he said.

"Oh..." Sakura caught herself staring at her hands once more, and she snapped her head back up and nodded resolutely at him. "Right. I'll, uh... I'll work on that."

Syaoran watched her for a moment, his gaze so intense that Sakura felt the need to scoot her chair back farther away from him, and then, to her surprise, he smiled. It was barely there, the corners of his lips pulled upward just enough so that the smile reached his eyes—but still, it was a smile.

"You have grown a lot," he said, and his eyes remained fixed on hers.

Sakura felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her. Unable to tear her eyes away, she wondered wryly to herself how she managed to get herself into so many staring contests with this guy. She'd never be the one to look away first, for there was a beauty in his eyes when he looked at her like this that left her aching, mentally scrambling, for more. It was as though his gaze seemed to just envelop her entire form all at once, warming her to her core within seconds, and until he looked at her like that, she had never realized how cold she was without it.

She watched as his eyes searched her face, feeling them running, like fingers, down the profile of her cheek, the curve of her lips—was it just her, or did they pause there?—and back up to her eyes. Sakura bit her lip. She felt crazy—but how was it that she felt, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, that there was something far more intimate in Syaoran's gaze? Or did he just happen to penetrate everyone with his eyes like that? She wouldn't be surprised if that was the explanation.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Perhaps he really had gotten over it and she was the only one stuck in the past stages of their relationship. Perhaps she was forever doomed to feel insane in this friendship of theirs.

Suddenly, Syaoran broke the staring contest, briefly turning around and surveying the rest of the students, who were all busy chattering amongst themselves once more. "Look," he said, facing her again. "They've finally lost interest in us."

Looking as though nothing had happened—and at this point, Sakura _knew_ she'd go insane as long as this kept up—Syaoran stood up, sliding the book back over the table to her as he did so. "I'm gonna head back to my table. Enjoy reading. But I expect to see this book in my hands soon," he said, and he grinned, although there didn't seem to be anything real behind the smile.

Sakura heaved a sigh. "Right."

But just as she placed her hand on the book to take it back, she nearly jumped as she felt Syaoran's hand upon her own. Her heart suddenly pounding wildly in her chest, she looked up at him, only to be transfixed by that amber gaze once more.

"Syaoran—what..." Her voice was soft, weak as it tapered off. She had no idea what to say.

But he did. "I really want this to work." He glanced away for a moment, and then back at her. "More than almost anything else."

And with that, he removed his hand from hers and walked back to his table.

* * *

Sakura knew it was foolish to expect anything more after that, but she couldn't help it. Walking into the first of her afternoon classes, she berated herself when she caught her eyes immediately flying to Syaoran's still-empty seat. _Stop it,_ she told herself. _Expect less from him. _

But how could she, when he had already given her so much more than she'd even dreamed of asking for?

Her inner voice was right, though—Syaoran walked into class just seconds before the bell rang, and his eyes never once met hers as he slid easily into his seat. And for the rest of the day, it was this way; it was as though nothing had occurred between them these last few days, and it drove Sakura insane. She wasn't quite sure if he was playing these games with her on purpose, but at this point, she would not have been surprised to hear that he was.

But the next day, just as she'd prepped herself mentally not to even look Syaoran's way as she went into the cafeteria, he had approached her ten minutes into the lunch period, sitting across from her as he had done the day before. And once again, without any kind of explanation or introduction, he had simply jumped into conversation, asking her how the reading was going, talking about homework for their kanji class, asking her about her family.

Sakura was just as shocked as she had been the day before, but she was better prepared to hide it this time. Figuring that Syaoran would either explain in due time or perhaps never explain at all, Sakura found no use in attempting to ask him what he was up to, what exactly was running through his mind as he sat and spoke with her like this. For she was convinced by this point that he was utterly unconcerned with being anything more than friends, whereas Sakura felt quite concerned enough with the idea for the both of them, and the contrast was embarrassing.

Even after the mixed signals—and Syaoran was the _king_ of mixed signals, she had come to realize—after the mysterious confession he'd made as he'd held her hand, after the nerve-wracking way he'd looked at her all throughout the lunch period the previous day, she still could not detect enough nor get enough out of him to figure out exactly what he was thinking. Exhausted with it by the end of the day, Sakura had decided then and there to just give up on the idea and contentedly accept him as an odd friend.

And so, as the days passed, Syaoran visiting her at lunch became a regular, daily event. After a week, Sakura found it safe to expect him. The conversations were always light, with no strange incidences like the very first day he'd come to her, and while this was a relief to Sakura, it was also a bit of a disappointment.

In class, Syaoran had begun to acknowledge her presence as well, nodding to her or waving if their eyes made contact, but there was never really any time to talk, and Syaoran had never been one to look at much else besides the blackboard when the teacher was speaking. After school, he was nowhere to be found—Sakura contributed this to the assumption that he usually immediately went home to practice—and since he did not contact her outside of school, Sakura could not bring herself to, either.

The students seemed to mimic Sakura's reactions in general; the first few days in which Syaoran approached Sakura at lunch, the same silence and then buzz of confused whispers always followed, but an exasperated Syaoran had told Sakura that surely, they would grow tired of being so nosy and would eventually come to see that nothing was as big a deal as they made it out to be. And he was right; after a week, nobody gave him a second glance as he made his easy gait down the cafeteria to Sakura's table, although that didn't stop anyone from wondering exactly what had happened.

* * *

On Syaoran's end, the effort was exhausting to him on all fronts—it was exhausting putting up with the nosy students; putting up with the obnoxious boys at his table who, although forever silenced on the issue after bringing it up by one glare from Syaoran, still whispered about it behind his back as though he were deaf and ignorant; putting up with the long, ridiculously public walk down the cafeteria; putting up with controlling what he said and did when in front of Sakura, who seemed completely unaware that he felt some kind of crazy release of happiness inside of him now that he could speak to her freely—but it was all worth it, he thought, precisely because of what Sakura was not aware of.

And as a week became two weeks, then three, he found himself growing quite comfortable with Sakura, craving her conversation and company, enough that he began to sit—with Yamazaki's and Eriol's encouragement and much to the bewilderment (and perhaps wounded pride) of the boys at his table—with Sakura as soon as he got to the cafeteria. He had also began to text her or call her on occasion in the evenings, when both of them had time and weren't busy with other things. He was utterly taken with the way she sounded over the phone, her voice quiet and lilting, sounding secretive and trusting, as though their conversations were confidential pieces of her life that she didn't want to share with anyone else. _Or maybe I'm projecting_, he thought, snorting, for that was how _he_ certainly felt. And her laugh was strangely quite easy, so different from the way she carried herself at school. Soon after he'd heard it, enough times, Syaoran had come to find himself making it his goal to make her laugh at least a few times in every conversation they held.

Syaoran knew that he was falling for her again, perhaps harder than before, and in a slightly different way—for they were starting over, it seemed, but on different feet. In the first couple of weeks, he had tried to resist it, but by the third, his resolve had broken down, and with a mental sigh, he had let the floor completely fall through beneath him, accepting that there was no way out of falling in love—or simply acknowledging that he had never quite fallen _out_ of love—with Sakura Kinomoto.

Still, there was a piece of him that still stubbornly clung to his initial fears, his inability to trust himself or his own decisions. He could feel that part of him giving way as well, but it was, he had thought dryly, much stronger than his willpower, and as such, it was taking a much longer time to crumble away.

That said, he certainly could feel it crumbling little by little, and he was most uncertain of what would happen the day that it broke apart entirely.

* * *

"Here," Syaoran said, dropping _Shades of Grey_ onto the lunch table.

Sakura looked up from her own book at the noise. "Oh, you finished it!" she exclaimed. "How'd you like it?"

It had been a month and a half now since Syaoran had started sitting with Sakura at lunch, and both had fallen into a comfortable friendship with each other. Sakura found it funny how easily she interacted with him, especially now that no bet or romantic relationship forced her to do so. It left her wondering what it would have been like if they had met and become friends on their own terms—would she have fallen for him then? Was it the bet that had catalyzed her feelings for him, or would she have begun to feel something for him regardless? And she wondered the same for him. When her mind wandered to the possibility that perhaps they could have started to like each other without any kind of deception, she found her heart aching and quickly buried the idea in the back of her mind.

"It was actually really good," Syaoran said, pulling his chair out and sitting down in it. He unwrapped his lunch. "I kind of thought you'd overhyped it, but I was wrong."

Sakura let out a dramatic gasp.

Syaoran raised an eyebrow before he bit into his sandwich. "What?"

"The great Syaoran Li, admitting he was wrong? I'm expecting the world to collapse in three... two..."

"Oh, shut up. I swear, you and Yamazaki could be best friends with the bad humor," Syaoran said, rolling his eyes, but he had to fight the urge to grin. It was always a pleasant surprise when Sakura tried to make _him_ laugh—and since it was so rare, he almost always wanted to.

Sakura smiled. "Sure took you a long time to finish it, though."

"I'm sorry that not all of us have the time or patience that could only be derived from incredible nerdiness to read four hundred pages in just a few days." Syaoran busily took another bite out of his sandwich, but he raised his eyes to make sure he hadn't actually hurt her feelings. He had not forgotten her sensitive nature, and although he meant all of his dry comments in jest, it was easy to say something careless and lead her to unconsciously make a sad face that he swore could bring the most merciless of people to their knees.

He snorted when he saw that she was merely sticking her tongue out at him.

There was a comfortable silence as he ate and Sakura read her book; one thing he had come to appreciate about her presence at lunch was that, although he would never tire of Yamazaki, Sakura did not feel the need to talk constantly, and neither did Syaoran. Both could sit with each other and engage in their own activities and be perfectly fine with it.

He observed her as she rather eagerly scanned the pages of the latest novel she held in her hands. In the initial stages of their post-romance, post-drama, post-makeup friendship, Sakura had seemed rather nervous in Syaoran's presence. Nowadays, she was far more at ease with him, joking back and initiating the conversation as often as he did.

"You're always reading," he said suddenly, grabbing the book out of Sakura's hands and thereby provoking several protests from Sakura. Ignoring these, he continued. "Don't you ever actually _eat_ at lunch?"

Scowling at him, Sakura grabbed the book back out of his hands. "I don't really have time to make lunch, since I have a paper route to run in the mornings, and it'd be a hassle for my father to pay the school lunch fees here so I don't bother asking him." She shrugged. "I've bought school lunches before, but it's a waste of money when I can't afford to do it every day. I eat a big breakfast and a snack when I get home from school, so I'm fine."

Syaoran snorted. "Don't think I haven't heard your stomach grumble in class. And more than once, at that."

Sakura blushed furiously. "I—is it really that noticeable?" she asked in a whisper, her eyes slightly wide with the realization.

Syaoran bit back yet another smile, something he found himself to be doing quite often these days. She looked ridiculously cute, he thought. "No," he said. "I just like teasing you." He frowned suddenly. "But really, it does bug me that you never seem to eat. It's not good for you, you know. Maybe that's why you're so tiny," he added jokingly, but the concerned look did not entirely leave his face.

Sakura blinked back at him, once again caught off-guard by the sudden shift in mood. She was no longer _surprised_ that he surprised her, but the fact of the matter was, he still surprised her—and every day, it seemed. One moment, he would be teasing her or grumbling about something, and then, out of nowhere, he'd do or say something that indicated—or, seemed to indicate—that he cared a good bit more about her than Sakura had initially thought.

For the most part, she had accepted that they were just very good friends, although at times his perplexing behavior could completely throw her off; some days, she would have to completely re-train herself to remember that they were just friends, just friends, just friends.

She hoped that today was not one of those days.

* * *

Sakura had gotten her wish—she had safely gotten through the day without any further incident of what Tomoyo had dubbed "Syaoran-induced confusion," or "Syaoran-confusion" for short. But she hadn't anticipated the next day, when Syaoran sat down at her table with two paper bags instead of one.

Sakura had not noticed initially, but she'd nearly jumped back out of her chair in surprise when Syaoran had tossed one of the bags to her and it landed with a _thud_ on her open book.

"You're developing a habit for throwing things at me at lunch, you know that?" Sakura said, frowning at the bag. "What is this?"

"Lunch," Syaoran said casually as he sat down across from her and began to open his own bag.

Sakura was bewildered. "What?"

"It's your lunch, I said." He didn't meet her gaze as he spoke, staring with an incredibly concentrated focus on his food.

When he was met with silence, he finally looked at her, and when he saw that she was gaping at him, he sighed. "What? Close your mouth, you look like an idiot. And you said you didn't have time to make your lunch, so I... Well, I decided to make it for you," he finished lamely. _That sounded a lot stupider out loud than it did in my head._

"Syaoran..."

"Don't look at me like that," he grumbled. "It wasn't a big deal. I had some extra time on my hands this morning. Anyway, Wei wasn't up yet or anything, so I had to make it... So it might be a little sloppy. And I know I'm a health nut and everything, so I tried to make it a bit more... normal for you."

Never mind that he had actually gotten up early to make it and that he would have been far too embarrassed to ask Wei to make an extra lunch so he could give it to a girl, even if he had been up.

Sakura was touched. "I didn't expect anything like this," she mumbled, staring at the bag. "I really was fine—"

"Would you just shut up and open it? I didn't make it so you'd stare at it, you know."

"Oh, right," Sakura said, and she opened up the bag, pulling out a sandwich and chips and an orange juicebox. She almost laughed at the childishness of it—this was something her father would've given to her when she was in elementary school. In other words, it was adorable.

She smiled and looked at him, moved. She knew how he hated that kind of reaction—outright emotional, or cheesy, as he would call it—but it was a very sweet gesture, and she had no idea how to convey her gratitude otherwise. It wasn't so much that she was grateful because she actually did feel quite hungry throughout the day—although that was certainly part of it—but more so because he'd clearly gone out of his way to do something for her that she hadn't even asked him to do. It almost reminded her of the days when he'd first begun to warm up to her as they'd started dating, and because of this, it also jumped out at her as an unusually affectionate thing to do, even when compared to the extremes of Syaoran's more recent nicer moments.

He was being strange now, she thought, as he refused to look at her. He was busily digging into his own lunch, eating—as usual—like his life depended on it. Not knowing what to make of this at all, Sakura shrugged and ate, stifling another laugh when she bit into the sandwich—it was peanut butter and marshmallow, something she truly hadn't eaten since she was about five. His idea of normalcy was endearing.

There it was, the now-routine silence, although this time, it was a little less comfortable; or perhaps Sakura was the only one who felt this way. Trying to think of something to say, she stared at the bag of chips.

"Baked apple chips?" Sakura commented, reading the label. "I've never had anything like that before."

"It's all we had," Syaoran grumbled. "And I don't even know who in my household eats marshmallow, but I found a jar of it in the cupboard and I figured you might like it."

Sakura laughed. It was always interesting when Syaoran became self-conscious; she never expected it and he was rarely ever this way.

"So...?" Syaoran said, scratching his head uncomfortably. "Was it edible enough? Like I said, I don't really know what normal people eat—well, Yamazaki eats a bunch of junk, but I feel like he consumes more than the normal human capacity, so I thought it'd be bad to take cues from him—so I..." he trailed off, not knowing what more to say.

"Oh, no, it—it's really good," Sakura assured him quickly. She bit her lip, wondering if she should say anything more. _It wouldn't hurt to actually thank him._ "Thank you," she said quietly, wondering just what exactly had driven him to do this for her. She couldn't get over the sweetness of it.

Syaoran met her eyes, and then he quickly began to pack up his lunch utensils, occupying himself. "It's fine. No big deal. I just hate that you don't eat—it makes me worry about y—" he stopped himself, and Sakura watched in confusion as his jaw clenched.

"Syaoran?"

"Never mind."

Sakura felt a nervous fluttering in her stomach; there it was again, that feeling that she was completely missing something. _We're just friends_, she repeated, but it was more out of habit now, and it did little to convince her. It was too much—his actions, his words, her curiosity, it was all too much. She had to say something; and if she was risking the friendship, then so be it. She didn't want that, but at least she'd go out knowing.

"Syaoran?" she repeated, but her heart was pounding so hard from the nerves that her voice shook.

He glanced up at her, and for some reason, this time, he held her gaze.

She wrung her hands under the table. _Just say it._ "Syaoran... Am I just—am I being really stupid here?" _Sakura, you idiot, that was so vague! How is he going to know what you're talking about? Forget it, you've already messed up. Just drop it when he asks—_

But to her surprise, Syaoran furrowed his brow, looking just as confused as she felt, and spoke, his voice quiet and uncertain. "No, not stupid..." He looked at her again, searching for the words, it seemed...

The bell rang then, shocking them both. Syaoran hastily grabbed the rest of his things together and stood up before Sakura could even get in another word. "Uh—see you in class," he muttered, and he took off.

Sakura sat in a daze, the look in his eyes burned into memory.

* * *

All afternoon, Syaoran could not bring himself to look at Sakura. It had been purely stupid of him, he thought, to bring her lunch, let alone to express that kind of concern towards her. It was reckless, so reckless. But at the same time, he felt that he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried.

Everything was becoming much more difficult; he could tell that he was reaching a breaking point. There was little fear left of taking the leap, really; now, it was more of a conflict of when and how he could even admit such a thing to Sakura when he'd been so careful and tentative in this friendship of theirs.

When Sakura had asked him if she was being stupid, he had known exactly what she was referring to, and it had taken a world's worth of willpower to stop himself from immediately telling her that, no, she was not stupid, that she still had a ridiculously intoxicating effect on him, that she meant the world to him now and that he loved her more than before and he hadn't even known that that was possible.

And although she was fairly dense about the whole matter, she was not stupid; many times, Syaoran had slipped, and she had always seemed to catch it, whatever little indicator he'd made that he cared much more about her than he let on. But she had never been confident enough in herself to take any kind of initiative, he'd found, and if it didn't allow him to keep up his facade, it would've made him angry. She'd look at him suspiciously, and then she'd almost seem to shrug to herself and resume normal conversation. _For God's sake,_ he'd find himself thinking, _I love her, and she doesn't believe in herself enough to dare to think that? _But with a start, he'd realize that he hardly wanted her to realize that kind of thing—or, at least, he'd _thought_ he didn't want that.

But what did he want now? This was what he wondered all day as he trudged through his afternoon classes, avoiding Sakura, knowing he was probably hurting her feelings in doing so and wishing he had the guts to simply acknowledge her. But he was scared that she'd see his emotions written all over his face and realize that he did, in fact, love her, quite possibly more than she did him. And for some reason, it was embarrassing to think that she would realize this before he ever admitted it.

This was the train of thought that ran through his head over and over in an endless circle, following him throughout the afternoon until he sat in his last class with thirty minutes left till the day was over. And then, all of a sudden, a single thought seemed to break the circle with such ease that he kicked himself for not thinking it before: _So tell her, you idiot._

It was so simple, and yet, the idea terrified him. It was ridiculous to be nervous about such a thing, he thought, but really, what if Sakura had come to prefer the idea of being just friends? If that was the case and he ended up confessing his love to her without knowing that, well... There went his pride.

Before he could stop himself, out of habit, he glanced behind him at Sakura, who caught his gaze almost as if she'd been expecting it. But instead of expressing any kind of notion that she was upset with him for ignoring her all afternoon, she only looked concerned for him—and then, she smiled a real smile at him, and Syaoran found himself moved. He had seen her smile quite a bit in the last few weeks, as he'd become very good at making her laugh, but it still had the same effect on him each time; and this time, it was even more pronounced.

That was it, he thought. He couldn't continue like this—he could toss his pride out the window, for all he cared. He did deserve to tell her, because in all reality, all of this secretiveness and conflict was far more taxing than the idea of being rejected; and moreover, she deserved to know. It seemed that their relationship had been strung by deceptions—and although Sakura had hid something from him, she had ended up coming out with the entire truth in the end. Yet, Syaoran was still hiding something from her—it felt wrong. It was as simple as that.

And so, bracing himself, he waited for the final bell to ring and caught up with Sakura just before she left the classroom, asking if he could walk home with her.

* * *

"And I'm just having a hard time memorizing the stroke patterns for these," Sakura said, holding up the latest kanji worksheet they'd received and then shoving it back into her schoolbag. "I hope I don't fail the test."

"You won't fail," Syaoran said, but his voice was rather absent.

Sakura frowned at him. They had been walking together for the last ten minutes, and she had no idea what to make of his behavior—from lunchtime until the last thirty minutes of the day, Syaoran had been ignoring her, and then all of a sudden, he'd just rushed up to her and asked if he could walk home with her. Not knowing what to say, she'd merely nodded, but he hadn't spoken a word for the first few minutes, and out of nervousness, Sakura had begun to babble on about random things. To her relief, Syaoran had responded to her conversation, but even so, his responses were only half-there.

Finally, she stopped walking and faced him. "Is something the matter?" she said, looking at him concernedly.

"What?" Syaoran seemed to have been pulled out of a daze by Sakura's words.

"You've been acting so strange all day," she said, frowning. "I don't know what to make of it."

Syaoran sighed. "Well... Actually, there is a reason I asked to walk with you."

Sakura looked back at him, waiting.

Syaoran gently tilted his head forward, indicating that they keep walking, and as they did so, he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to speak. "First off—sorry for being weird today. I didn't mean to ignore you or anything after lunch. I just had a lot on my mind. And I know I do that a lot—I leave you hanging, and then I never explain myself and you just end up hurt and confused." He sighed. "I've always done that to you, and each time, it's always been stupid and selfish."

"Syaoran," Sakura said softly, "you really don't—"

Syaoran shook his head. "You know I'm right. But I am going to give you an explanation, and hopefully..." He looked at her, finally, and although Sakura could not read his expression, it made her nervous.

"Hopefully," he repeated, "it'll provide some clarity."

Although he had been the one to suggest walking forward, he found that he had to stop. Sakura did as well, still not really knowing what to expect, and oddly, she was frightened. Outrageous thoughts flew through her mind, and she imagined Syaoran suddenly saying that he just couldn't be friends with her anymore, and that's why he'd been acting so strange. She bit her lip; just the thought of that sent a ripping ache through her chest, and the churning in her stomach increased.

"The truth is, Sakura..." He furrowed his brow, running a hand through his messy hair, and he looked at her in that way again—intense and focused, as though she were the only person in his world—and Sakura found herself holding her breath.

Syaoran seemed to need to take many pauses to find what he wanted to say, and it was agony for Sakura, who, against her will, began to imagine awful endings to all of these unfinished sentences.

_The truth is, Sakura, I can't do this anymore._

"The truth is, from the time we were dating..."

_From the time we were dating, you were barely tolerable as it was._

"Well..."

_Well, I'm sorry it had to end this way. _

Sakura commanded herself to stop, for she could actually hear him saying these things in his low, rough voice, and it made her tremble.

"Hey—are you okay? You're shaking," Syaoran said suddenly, his eyes concerned.

"Oh, I—I'm fine, I'm just being dumb—"

But before Sakura could make herself stop, Syaoran had pulled her to him in a hug, making her completely speechless.

"Syaoran?" she whispered against his chest, hoping that he couldn't feel her ridiculous heartbeat—it was so embarrassing. But she could hear his now, and it was awfully fast as well...

"Maybe it'll be easier to tell you this way," he said, and Sakura could feel his breath on her hair. "The truth is, from the time we were dating, I had fallen in love with you, Sakura."

Sakura tried to swallow. In love? Had she heard that correctly? She'd known that he had grown fond of her, but she had never thought that his emotions for her were quite so strong. Her mind blanked out, and she could not figure out the feelings running through her system at all—but for the sudden lack of power in her brain, her heart seemed to make up tenfold, as she was suddenly as breathless as if she'd been running a marathon.

"And I never really fell out of it," he said softly. "After you told me everything, I wanted so much to just tell you from there, that I loved you, too, that maybe we could start over—but I was really scared," he admitted, so quietly that Sakura strained to hear even in her close proximity.

"So instead, I told you that we should be friends... And I meant it. I never went into the friendship meaning to fall even more in love with you—but somehow, and I guess I was dumb for not expecting it, I did. I tried to resist it, because it's just so damn hard to trust anybody, but... God, Sakura, if there was ever anyone worth the effort," he said, and at this point, he pulled away and held her by the shoulders, looking her carefully in the eye, "it's you."

Sakura stared at him, her mouth slightly ajar, trying to take in the words. She could hardly breathe, let alone speak, but he seemed to be waiting for her to say something, his own expression anxious and unsure. "I—Syaoran—" she looked down at her feet, feeling stupid for being unable to find the right words, but _really_, how did he expect her to say something coherent in response to a confession like that? It was the last thing she had expected, because she had never dared to hope for such a thing, ever. It had been too much, and now that she was getting it, she was completely overwhelmed. She found tears forming rapidly in her eyes, and unable to think of anything better to say, she leaned her head against his chest and let out a small sob.

"Thank you," she whispered, clutching the back of his shirt as she tried to hold in her tears.

Syaoran raised his eyebrows in confusion and surprise as Sakura fell into him, for it was not a reaction he was expecting, but it was welcome, all the same. He sighed in relief and smiled to himself, kissing the top of her head and holding her back tightly.

"I don't really know why you're crying," he teased gently. "But I can tell when you're trying not to, and I've always told you it's okay, you know," he said, and almost immediately, Sakura sobbed openly into his chest, completely moved.

Finally, after some time, she pulled back, her hands still entwined around his back and his around her waist.

"So—sorry," Sakura hiccuped. "I'm just so happy and—and overwhelmed, and I just can't even process—when I lied to you and—and I—how could you just overlook something like that?" She shook her head. "I never expected this, because... I always thought you deserved better—"

Syaoran stopped her by placing a finger on her lips. "Am I always going to have to stop you from saying unnecessary things? It seems to be a habit of yours," he said, a small grin on his lips.

"It's been awhile since all of that happened," he continued, more seriously. "I meant it when I said I wanted to put it behind us. There's always been more to the story, and... I don't know, once I got it, the truth had a whole new meaning to it." His fingers left her lips and ran across her cheek, wiping away some of the streaks her tears had left. "I know exactly what I deserve. I always have. And at the end of the day, you are more—more than what I deserve."

Sakura gasped as his thumb traced the curve of her lower lip. And before the words could make their full impact on her, before Sakura could process the rushing sensation in her stomach, before she could really drink in the way he was gazing at her, Syaoran pulled her closer and pressed his lips gently against hers.

* * *

Hurray, no cliffhanger this time around! I hope this was satisfying! So, some things to note here: **I apologize for the severe lack of Tomoyo/Eriol and Meiling/Ryuji.**They'll get their spotlights in the next chapter for sure (and I am actually considering a oneshot for Meiling and Ryuji), but this needed to be a Sakura/Syaoran chapter, simply because **the issues between them could not be properly resolved in the span of a mere few pages. **Also, **I want to dedicate that Eriol/Yamazaki scene to swallowingtears!** She's helped me figure out a lot of this chapter, and I definitely appreciate that. Excellent idea-sharer! **I'll probably go back and edit this chapter a tad more later, **but nothing of too much significance. I'm just posting in a bit of a finally, **thank you** for sticking with me till the very end! We're almost done, and more importantly, Sakura and Syaoran are finally together—for good! See you guys soon, and please leave a review!

Love,

boreum dal


	19. Deepest Wish

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everyone! Er... I'll go ahead and spit out the usual apology with the usual excuse. I know it's been six months, but school is always a priority. In my defense, I've been working pretty diligently on this chapter throughout those months whenever time and imagination allowed! But I do know it's a long time for the last few parts of the story, so I am very sorry. But that said, it's the last part of the story! This is the official last chapter of Fukai Negai. I can't believe it. The next chapter is an epilogue, a little look at what will happen in the future... But this is the official end. That's _insane_. Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck around all these years, and to new readers as well! Your reviews throughout the years have encouraged me to constantly set my standard higher and to think bigger, and this story is ending very differently—in a good way—from how it started. I owe all of you so much, and I can only hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as I have. I seriously have so much love for all of you. Enjoy the last chapter of Fukai Negai!

**Chapter 19: **Deepest Wish

"So... Syaoran, how long are we going to stand like this?"

"Just a little longer. It's been a long time since I was last able to do this, you know."

Sakura giggled. "Okay. I can't complain."

They were still on the sidewalk, where, after he'd given her a kiss so thrilling that it could have brought her to her knees, Syaoran had pulled Sakura into an embrace. Sakura relished the feeling; for awhile, when they were beginning their friendship, she had forgotten about that hole in her heart that Syaoran had left behind. But now that she was enveloped in his arms, she realized that for the first time in quite awhile, she felt complete, _whole_. There were few feelings in the world, she thought, that could compare to something like this.

Sakura was still completely floored at everything that had happened in the span of the past half-hour. She felt as though she were in a dream; she had never dared to be this optimistic—so certain had she been that it wouldn't work out—and the very idea that she was getting something she'd considered forbidden and impossible made her almost nervous.

But she knew how to be thankful when she needed to be, and she put aside her nerves and for once allowed herself to enjoy the moment. After all, it was over now—there was no more reason to worry, and Sakura reveled in the idea of having no more secrets.

Shifting her weight slightly so that she could lean farther into him, she sighed contentedly as she felt him kiss her hair.

* * *

"Coming, coming," Eriol called upon hearing the doorbell ring, racing down the stairs.

Tomoyo giggled at Eriol's atypically frazzled appearance as he opened the door; his hair, still wet from his recent shower, was sticking up in several different directions and he seemed a bit hurried and harassed.

"I'm a patient girl, Eriol. You hardly have to sprint to get the door for me," she said, smiling. "But I do appreciate it all the same." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before letting herself in.

Eriol grinned. "Well, I'm a gentleman. It's in my blood."

Tomoyo laughed. "It's hardly a quality I have any qualms with, so I guess you're lucky there." She glanced around. "I've only been here one other time."

"The first time we met, wasn't it?" Eriol said, leading Tomoyo up the winding staircase to his room. Their voices echoed against the marble floors and stone walls and high ceilings.

Tomoyo nodded. "If I recall correctly, we danced on that floor," she said, pointing to the ground below the second-floor balcony.

Eriol opened his bedroom door and allowed Tomoyo to step in before stepping inside himself and shutting the door.

"That was a nice night," he smiled.

Tomoyo nodded, sitting on his bed. "I like your room."

There was a very cultured feel about the room; the floors were dark, polished hardwood, and the furniture was primarily a darker wood as well, with the sheets and curtains in coordinating shades of sapphire and silver. Many of the fixtures around the room looked as though they were antiques, and the rows and rows of books and music lining the walls spoke volumes of the inhabitant's various interests.

Eriol picked up a remote off of his desk and pointed it towards a stereo system that had been built into the wall, and within seconds soft music began to play in the background.

Tomoyo lay back on the bed, her feet still touching the ground, as Eriol sat down beside her. She smiled as she made her index and middle fingers walk up his arm like the two legs of a man.

"I wonder what Sakura and Syaoran are up to," she mused.

"Oh, right... They walked home together, didn't they?" Eriol said, gently grabbing Tomoyo's hand and raising it to his lips before he lay down beside her, keeping her hand in his.

"They did." Tomoyo looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "It's been half an hour and Sakura hasn't called me. I'm getting antsy," she said, giggling. "I'm tempted to call her right now and grill her about what's going on."

"Well, why don't you give them a little time? I thought you said you were a patient girl." Eriol smiled.

"I am! With everything else. And I know I should... But it's seriously all I can think about! No offense," Tomoyo added quickly, grinning at Eriol.

Eriol laughed. "Ouch. Well, might I provide you with a worthy distraction?"

"Try me."

He rolled over a bit so that he was hovering over her, leaning on one elbow, and gazing down at her for a moment, he smiled. "You're gorgeous."

Tomoyo smiled back. "That's certainly a start."

Eriol leaned down and kissed her slowly, but he pulled away when she moved to deepen the kiss.

Tomoyo frowned. "You don't intend to distract me anymore?"

"Sorry," Eriol said, laughing. He pulled himself back up on his elbow. "But... This doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just—call me old-fashioned, but I've never _been_ like this—this intimate or this caring—with a girl unless we're... Well, unless I know what we are."

Tomoyo sat up, running a hand through her long hair; Eriol noticed that her expression had suddenly gone from content to troubled. "What we are?" she repeated, more to herself than to him.

"I mean... Is it a problem?" Eriol was completely baffled at the sudden drop in her mood.

"I don't know," Tomoyo sighed. She swung her legs back over the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. "I don't know what we are."

"Well..." Eriol sat up beside her and spoke gently. "I like you, I _think_ you like me, and we go on what I would think are dates... Wouldn't that make us a couple?"

Tomyo shrugged. "Would it?"

Eriol frowned. "Is something the matter?"

Tomoyo shook her head. "No, nothing's wrong."

"Then, Tomoyo," Eriol said, turning her head gently to face him, "why won't you answer the question?"

"It's complicated."

Eriol smirked. "Try me."

Tomoyo twirled a strand of her long hair around one of her fingers as she sighed. "I just don't wanna mess it up again," she said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"Ken and I... I don't know. I wonder if maybe, if we'd just taken off that label of boyfriend and girlfriend when I'd moved... If we'd have been able to work things out." She looked at him quickly. "Not that I'm not happy with you. But things ended so quickly and so weakly between him and me, and it was fine until I left Tokyo. And maybe if I'd just said, 'You don't have to be my _boyfriend_,' I wouldn't have expected him to be. And he wouldn't have had to live up to anything, and maybe we could have ended a bit more happily. I don't want anything like that to happen with you and me. I'm too happy with you," she finished, smiling a little.

Eriol pulled Tomoyo closer to him and kissed the top of her head. "Look. Your last relationship didn't end because you put a label on it, or anything like that. It ended because he never gave you the effort you deserved. Being called your boyfriend wouldn't make me feel like I didn't have to try anymore, Tomoyo. It'd only make me try harder." He looked at her over the rim of his glasses. "But I do need to hear it at some point—I want to be your boyfriend."

The little smile on Tomoyo's face grew, and she laughed. "You're way too good with your words, you know that?"

Eriol grinned. "I've heard that before."

"Well... I think I could say yes," she said carefully. "I do want it. But could I ask you to give me a little more time? Just to get my bearings together."

There was a silence, and Tomoyo held her breath, wondering if Eriol thought she was asking too much—

"Of course."

She felt him place a kiss on her cheek, and she let out an exhale, smiling. "Somehow, I feel like I wouldn't be able to say no to you, anyway."

* * *

Tomoeda's weather the following day was, to say the least, incredibly bipolar. It had begun with a clear blue sky, sunny and pleasant...

_The phone rang mercilessly, and if only to make it stop ringing, Syaoran picked it up off his bedside and held it to his ear. _

"_Hello?" _

"_Are you _still_ asleep?" Sakura's laugh came through from the other end of the line._

"_We were on the phone for a long time last night, you know," Syaoran said quickly, his voice defensive; but he felt a smile creeping up onto his face. He didn't want to admit that it was a nice way to wake up. _

"_That is true. I'm sorry for keeping you up." Her voice was solemn now._

"_No, it's fine... I should've gotten up an hour ago, anyway," he said, looking at the clock._

"_Well, it's Saturday!" Excitement permeated Sakura's voice. "What do you wanna do?"_

_Syaoran scratched his head. "I have no idea, actually. I usually spend my Saturdays training and then running around with Eriol and Yamazaki, but they're both busy. What do you do on Saturdays?"_

"_Anything, really. It's really nice out, so... would you want to go bike-riding?"_

_Syaoran grimaced as he thought of his long-unused mountain bike, sitting neglected against the back wall of his garage. He had never _quite _gotten how to balance on one, but one of his sisters had bought him one for Christmas a couple years ago in hopes that he'd try to learn. He hadn't found the time, but Sakura didn't need to know all of that. How hard could it be?_

"_Sure."_

And of course, Syaoran's ego had taken quite the beating when he'd subsequently tried—and failed—to even ride down the block multiple times before finally admitting to Sakura that he had never really learned how to ride a bike. Sakura had giggled, but she hadn't ridiculed him for it, and much to his gratitude, suggested they walk their bikes back to her house and get lunch. Out of nowhere, it had started to pour rain halfway back, and laughing, they'd raced back to the house and dried off before making sandwiches.

Hours had passed without either even having realized it, and before they knew it, it was dusk, the rain still going strong outside. Lethargic and tired, they had put on a movie and laid on the floor—at first uncomfortably apart from each other, until Syaoran finally gave in and wrapped an arm around Sakura, who reciprocated by leaning her head on his shoulder—and when the movie had ended, neither had gotten up to turn off the television. They lay in content peace, watching the rain from the large windows in the living room and lying beside each other.

"You know," Sakura said softly, tracing her finger idly up and down the back of Syaoran's arm as they lay sprawled on the floor, Sakura on her stomach and Syaoran on his back, "for the longest time, I didn't really have a deepest wish."

Syaoran glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow. "A deepest wish?"

"Yeah. You know, like an aspiration in life. You probably trained long and hard because one of your deepest wishes was to become one of the best martial artists, right?"

Syaoran nodded.

"Well, going into high school, I didn't have anything like that. Maybe it's because suddenly, everyone was kind of stampeding towards their different groups—and no one really informed me that I had to choose one. So I was left standing in the dust, like an idiot. But by the time the dust had cleared, the gates were locked; everyone was settled in. So I just kind of gave up. But everyone within their respective groups kind of had a collective deepest wish, you know? For a long time, Mai's group was focused on being popular. You could say the same for the group of boys that you hang out with.

"Anyway," she continued, sitting up a little, leaning on her elbows, "I did have my hobbies and interests, but there wasn't much of a push there. It still wasn't enough... I just didn't feel driven, at all. For anything. I took a lot of comfort in being with my family, but that was about it." She pursed her lips. "I've been thinking about it a lot... Maybe, since I didn't aspire to do anything, that's why I was such a weak person."

Syaoran frowned at that. "You're hardly weak, Sakura. You just don't believe in how strong you are."

Sakura smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks. But—that's the thing. I don't think I'm weak anymore. And when I started falling for you," she said carefully, pointedly looking away from him, "I found it—that deepest wish."

Syaoran gazed up at her, curious. "What was it?"

"Well, to be with you, of course. But at the time, there was a lot of conflict, and so I guess it transcended that. I wanted to be with you, I wanted to be able to be honest with you. I wanted you to want me back in the same way. That was my deepest wish. And because of it, I ended up figuring out a lot about myself." Finally, she brought herself to gaze down at him, her chin resting in one hand now. "You were my catalyst in that. You were my deepest wish."

Syaoran stared back at her, dumbfounded and amazed at once. And all of a sudden, thinking back to the way Sakura _had_ been and the way she was now, he felt a fierce sense of pride in knowing that he had helped to bring out the best of her, although he did feel she was giving him far more credit than he deserved. It was a curiously childish thing that she was explaining, this idea of a "deepest wish," but it made sense, and its childishness suited her; the idea was innocent, yet strangely true.

He felt a smile tug at his lips, and he sighed. "Come here," he said, and pulling her over to him, he gazed up at her, thinking carefully before he spoke. "I'm happy..." he hesitated, but the words came spilling out anyway, "I'm happy that I got to take part in releasing something so phenomenal, then." He took in the thrilled look on her face for only a moment before he smiled and rolled her over to the floor, his arms on either side of her as he leaned down to kiss her tenderly.

* * *

"Ow!" Meiling cried as she lost her footing from the stepladder and tumbled to the living room floor. "God." She winced as she rubbed the area where she'd fallen.

"Everything all right?"

Meiling sat up on her elbows and turned around to see Ryuji, his eyebrows raised, somehow managing to look both concerned and unimpressed at the same time.

"Fine, thanks," she grumbled, pulling herself up and dusting herself off. "How do you always manage to catch me when I don't want you around?"

"I feel like that's not that hard, considering how often you don't want me around."

Meiling smirked as she picked the stepladder up off the ground and folded it away. "Well, there you go."

"Then again, I've never really cared about what you wanted," Ryuji grinned. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"It's none of your business," Meiling said, dusting off her hands.

Ryuji looked up at the high bookshelf that Meiling had been trying to reach with the help of the stepladder moments before. "I could help you get those, you know."

"I don't need your help," Meiling snarled back.

"Cool it. I was only offering. And of course you need my help—even with that stepladder, you're still way too short to reach those books. No wonder you fell off."

"Well, forget about it. And I'm fine."

Ryuji shrugged and proceeded to grab the stepladder from where Meiling had put it away, ignoring her confused protests as he stood up and grabbed the heavy, leather-bound books she'd been reaching for. He glanced down at her. "Any others you want?"

Meiling scowled at him, but she bit her lip. "Could you grab that white one, too?"

Ryuji gave her a smug, triumphant look before taking the white book and stepping off of the ladder. He handed them to her in a stack. "What are these, anyway?"

"It's none of your concern."

"Well, considering how I just got them for you, I'd say it is."

"I didn't ask you to!"

"Ah—but technically, you did," Ryuji said, tapping his finger on the white book.

Meiling groaned. "You're impossible."

"And that's why I'm in the business of stocks." His voice was laced with the edges of laughter.

Shrugging with a tired, defeated look on her face, Meiling sighed. "Stay and see if you want, then. I don't know why you'd even find it interesting."

She sat on the floor and opened the first book—the white one—to reveal sheets of old photographs.

"Photo albums?"

Meiling nodded, not looking up.

Ryuji sat down beside her and looked at the first photograph—an aged one of a small girl, her hair in two tight black buns on either side of her head, staring wide-eyed at the camera as she rode a tricycle. "Is that you?"

"Yep."

"I think this is the only version of you I've seen where you don't look like you want to murder somebody."

Meiling snorted. "Well, I was a child, once."

"'Once?' You're still a kid," Ryuji said, his brow furrowed slightly.

Meiling caught the double meaning in his words, but she ignored it and flipped the page. Both their eyes landed on a large photograph of a beautiful young woman, almost regal in her composure but her face open and kind, sitting by a fountain and smiling.

"She's pretty," Ryuji observed.

"My mother," Meiling responded, her eyes not leaving the photograph.

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

Meiling pursed her lips before answering. "She got sick when I was little. She'd been sick since she had me. I guess it just got too hard for her."

Ryuji watched Meiling's face carefully, and he found himself both disturbed and disappointed by her stoicism. "I'm sorry."

Meiling scoffed. "People always tell me that, but what do they have to be sorry about? They didn't even know her."

Ryuji knew it was a sensitive issue, but her snide rejection of his consolation automatically brought out his defenses, and he opened his mouth to make a retort. He paused as he saw Meiling bite her lower lip, a crease between her brows as she tried to hold herself in. He sighed. "I know. It sucks... But I mean it. I am sorry, that you have to deal with this."

Meiling shut the book and lay back on the floor. "It's fine. You don't really even know the half of it."

"I've seen how your father treats you," he blurted.

Meiling looked back at him from the ground, her brows raised. "Really? And what can you do about it? You're just as much in his clutches as I am. There's no point in even paying attention to it."

"It's not fair," he said, his voice quiet.

"Yeah, well, tell that to him."

Ryuji slammed his fist against the floor very suddenly, making Meiling sit up in surprise. "Ryuji, what—"

"I _do_ care, you know," he said, his voice louder. "Don't act like I don't! Do you think I'd be sitting here, looking through your stupid old photo album with you if I didn't care? It's a shitty situation, Meiling. I see how hard you try, and I hate that you feel like there's nothing to be done about it. But you don't make it any better. Don't live for your father. Live for yourself. You deserve it."

Meiling stared at him, unable to think of any real response.

He sighed. "Goddamn it. I'm sorry."

And with that, he stood up and left the room.

* * *

Sakura waited outside of the school with her hands behind her back, shifting from foot to foot. She tried to ignore the slight anxiety in the pit of her stomach as she watched students trickling into the doors to their homerooms.

It was Monday. She had agreed to meet Syaoran in front of the school and walk in with him together; it would be their first day in school as a real, bona fide couple. And although it shouldn't have mattered what people would say now that there were no secrets between them, the thought of it still scared her.

She hated it.

"Hey."

She felt a brief touch on the small of her back, and Sakura visibly relaxed, her shoulders slumping a little.

"Are you okay?" Syaoran said, chuckling as he fully wrapped an arm around her waist. "I wish you could see a before-and-after of yourself. You looked terrified for a moment."

Sakura smiled. "I kind of _was_, you know." She gazed up at the school building, which suddenly seemed more imposing than ever. "This is...different."

Syaoran shoved his hands in his pockets, following her line of vision with his own gaze and pursing his lips. "Yeah. It is."

Quickly, he pressed a kiss to her temple. "But it'll be fine."

"Syaoran!" she squealed, trying to sound stern and ignoring the thrill the kiss had sent through her. "We said—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Nobody saw, so don't worry."

For an hour the night before, they'd discussed how things would go at school. They'd both come to the conclusion that they were severely uncomfortable with any sort of real display of public affection—Syaoran because he was a private person, Sakura because she hated an audience, and both of them because they felt it wasn't particularly anyone's business. Plus, they had agreed, something about being in public lessened the genuineness, the full delight that a kiss or hug or even a touch would normally bring.

That said, they had also agreed that they wouldn't try too hard to _hide_ anything. ("If I want to hold your hand for a second in the halls, do you really think I'm going to resist because I don't want the guy standing at his locker to see?" Syaoran had said, his voice deadpan.) In short, they would just let people find out about them on their own time—they would not play catalyst, nor would they try to keep it some sort of secret.

"The bell's going to ring in a few minutes. We should head in," Sakura murmured.

Syaoran glanced over at her, hands still in his pockets. He sighed. He wished she weren't so easily intimidated. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he held her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him. "You'll be fine. I mean it," he said. "So what if people find out? What can they do to you? I don't give a damn what they think. You shouldn't, either." He looked at her intently, trying to convey the message beyond his words. "You're going to see me at lunch, and it'll be like nothing has changed. I promise."

Sakura looked back up at him, and even as he said that nothing would change, she saw a tender, softer look to his eyes that she had never quite seen before—not so clearly, anyway. It suited him somehow, even though he had always seemed to wear cold and careless so well. It dawned on her that this look was for her—she was the receiver of this secret expression. His eyes were open for her.

The idea of it rendered her speechless. It was all she could do to nod and smile back.

"All right. I'll see you at lunch. Have a good day," he said, and as if the moment called for it, his voice was quiet, low.

And as if nothing had happened, Syaoran released her and walked into school, his hands in his pockets once more. Sakura watched him go for awhile before shuffling to her own homeroom.

* * *

Mai took her usual seat beside Meiling in her homeroom and smiled a bit warily. Things had been different between them lately. Strangely enough, after the period where they had worked together to effectively end things between Sakura and Syaoran, they had not communicated nearly as much. While they still saw each other frequently and talked frequently, it had seemed that Meiling had sunk into her home life, and Mai simply did not care about trivial things—like other people's business—the way she had used to. She had gotten no satisfaction out of seeing Sakura cry or Syaoran sulking more than he normally did, and although Meiling had been the one to suggest it, Mai had observed that Meiling did not seem to get much from it, either.

In fact, when they had been together, Syaoran had looked happier than Mai had ever remembered seeing him, and Sakura had looked far more alive. She'd regretted doing what she'd done.

And now, as she'd hurried to the front doors of the school mere seconds before, running late, she'd paused for a moment to give some privacy to a boy and a girl stand before the doors, chatting. The boy's arm had been around the girl, and he had kissed her hair. And then, he had turned her to face him, and Mai had realized that she had been observing Syaoran Li and Sakura Kinomoto. With some shock, she'd watched as he looked at her more intensely and passionately than she'd ever known him to be capable of.

There was no doubt about it—somehow, Sakura and Syaoran were together again, and this time, as far as Mai knew, it was real.

"So," Mai began, drumming her fingers against her desk as she leaned forward. "Guess what I saw this morning?"

Meiling leaned against her own desk with her chin in her hand, her eyelids drooping in an exaggeration of no interest. "Hm."

Mai snorted. "Humor me, okay?"

Meiling grinned. "Fine. What did you see?"

"I don't necessarily know what's going on, but I believe Kinomoto and Syaoran Li are back together."

Meiling merely raised an eyebrow, but Mai could see that she had piqued her interest. "And what led you to this conclusion?"

"What didn't? They were acting every part the couple when I saw them walking into school."

"Interesting."

Mai watched curiously as Meiling seemed to take this in, her expression frustratingly stoic all the while. After a few moments of silence, Mai grew impatient. "So…?"

Meiling turned her head to look at Mai once more. "So?"

"I'm trying to gauge your reaction. I'm not getting anything."

Meiling shrugged. She suddenly looked tired. "I guess I'm done."

Mai stared for a moment, then let out a long exhale of relief.

Meiling laughed. "Was it really that bad before?"

"Truth be told, yes. I was getting tired of it, you know? I might have had to say no if you wanted me to come along for the ride this time." Mai paused. "What's the difference now, for you?"

Meiling watched the door as students filed in, avoiding Mai's eyes for fear that they would reveal what exactly she was thinking about. "It was childish of me before... You know."

Mai nodded; she was one of the few who were well-aware of Meiling's problematic relations with her father. Perceptive as she was, she had long since figured out the connection between that particular relationship and Meiling's bottomless need for attention from those around her. That had seemed to subside exponentially lately, although, since they did not keep up with each other nearly as much, Mai could not entirely figure out why.

Meiling shrugged again. "I've heard that they'd decided to be friends. If they're together now, it's real. They must actually like each other." She half-scoffed, but it ended in a laugh. "Who would have thought? Kinomoto has a life now. And so does Syaoran, for that matter."

"They really should thank us, shouldn't they?" Mai laughed.

Meiling smirked, and then she sighed. "Ruuji would call me an idiot if he knew about any of this."

"Ryuji?"

Meiling opened her mouth to answer, but as she did, the teacher walked in, and much to Mai's disappointment, she seemed to have no intention of trying very hard to explain.

There it was, though, Mai thought. The last piece of the puzzle—whoever this Ryuji was, he had undoubtedly had to have played a role in Meiling's increasing sense of self-worth.

* * *

Something was different, Meiling thought as she stepped into her house. Something was very, very off, and she could not place what it was.

Sighing as she took off her shoes and headed upstairs for her room, she wondered what she would say to Ryuji. They hadn't spoken since the day before, when they'd been looking through her photo albums. They had awkwardly crossed paths a few times, smiling timidly at each other and then passing along. And at dinner, it had been Ryuji who had not shown up.

She felt discouraged. His words had touched her; she had never realized the extent of how he'd cared for her, as she had grown so used to his presence that she had begun to take it for granted. And now, she'd appeared careless and self-absorbed—which she had been, really—and she had no idea how to tell him that she wasn't any longer, that she was thankful for his presence in the house and that she would have gone insane by now if he hadn't appeared out of nowhere the way he had. She had no idea how to tell him that she didn't care about any of the things she used to care about, because if anyone had made her see how stupid and petty those things were, it had been him. She had no idea how to express how crucial his existence in her life had been to her growth or to her willpower. She remembered the epic poems that she had studied in her literature class the previous semester, how even those had seemed to struggle to express the weight of the emotions their writers attempted to convey—and she herself only had a few sentences to spare before she could lose his attention forever.

Meiling found her feet dragging her to Ryuji's room rather than her own, her schoolbag still in hand. Panic seeped through her mind, and she wondered what she would say, what she would do with her hands, how she would even _look_ at him—and as soon as she arrived at his open door, all these thoughts were wiped from her mind.

Ryuji's room was almost entirely packed up in boxes; Ryuji himself was crouched in the corner, taping up another box on the floor.

Sensing someone's presence behind him, Ryuji turned around to see a shocked Meiling leaning against his doorpost. He glanced aside for a moment, and then he set down the packing tape and stood up, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Hey," he said quietly, not sure how to explain what was happening.

"What—what's going on?" Meiling managed, an overwhelming sense of fear beginning to well up in her chest. It completely eclipsed any panic she'd felt in the moments prior.

"Meiling..."

"Why is your room—where—where are you going?"

"I'm sorry." Ryuji looked off to the side once more. It was unsettling to see such blatant fear on her face. Although he knew her vulnerabilities, Ryuji had never actually watched Meiilng cower at anything.

"Don't apologize," Meiling said, her voice shaking with what seemed to be incredulous laughter. "Just tell me what's going on."

Not quite knowing how to begin, he drew in a breath before he spoke. "I got into a bit of an argument with your father..."

Meiling felt instant fury at her father, and Ryuji read it on her face.

"Don't—don't be angry with him. I mean it. I started it; it was entirely my fault." Ryuji's own expression was earnest, pleading.

Meiling surveyed the room once more, and she remembered the day Ryuji had moved in, challenging everything she had thought to know about herself. Feeling her legs wobble, she stepped inside the room and sat on the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest.

Ryuji sat down beside her, leaning back on his hands. "When I came into this house, I vowed not to get involved in any personal affairs with the family. This was purely a business deal that would also benefit my mother. That was the priority. And honestly," he said, looking over at her, "I didn't think that it would be a problem."

Meiling pursed her lips, still unable to look at Ryuji. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Her stomach churned, and she felt sick.

"But almost immediately," he continued, "I became a witness to that constant, building tension between your father and yourself. If I maintained a strict business relationship with the both of you, this wouldn't have been an issue. But your father has been like a true father to me. And..."

Meiling heard great uncertainty in Ryuji's voice, and she glanced over at him.

"Meiling, even you're not dumb enough that I need to tell you that our relationship is nowhere near a business relationship. Nothing like it."

Meiling found herself smiling at the slight joke, and Ryuji grinned as well, feeling relief at the response.

He continued. "So... Having become friends with you, it got tougher each time I had to watch you break and build yourself back up, only to break again. What you have with your father is not healthy—your constant need to impress him, his stubbornness in his refusal to pay you attention."

He reached over to her suddenly, stroking her cheek; Meiling's eyes grew wide, but she didn't speak.

His hand wandered down to her chin, and he gently tilted her face upward towards him. "You are intriguing and absolutely extraordinary. You hardly deserve to be like this all the time."

Meiling was speechless. She bit her lip, hardly able to believe what was happening, and she attempted to roll her eyes to break the moment. Instead, she shut them, and tears came spilling out.

Wiping them away with his thumbs, Ryuji paused for a moment before he pressed his lips to her forehead. With that, he stood up, holding a hand out to help her up as well. "I told your father these things. It wasn't my place, but he needed to know. And now, I've gotten far too involved... From a work standpoint, it's just not right for me to be here anymore. I'm sorry, Meiling."

It took a long time for Meiling to process all of this—that he, who had already done so much to change her life, had stood up to her father, one of the most powerful men she had ever known to exist, and all for her sake. Moved beyond words, she sat with her head in her hands for a moment, leaving Ryuji to stand awkwardly with his hand held out to her. Finally, she sighed shakily, taking his hand and standing up as well. "When are you leaving?"

"I told your father I'd be out of the house before dinner tonight. I plan on keeping my word." Ryuji's voice was apologetic but confident; Meiling knew then that there was no convincing him to stay.

"There was so much I wanted to tell you..." she trailed off, trying not to let out a sob. She hated that her voice was quivering; it made her feel weak and helpless and not at all like herself.

Ryuji gazed down at her, concern tinging his voice and his eyebrows furrowed. "What is it?"

Meiling glanced up at him and then looked away quickly, wiping her eyes defiantly. "I shouldn't have to tell you now. You're leaving."

She tried to maintain the spite in her voice, but she knew it was a lost cause—she was anything but angry with him. She was angriest with herself for all of it—for never having told him these things until it was clearly too late, for ever letting her relationship with her father show enough to the point where Ryuji would leave, for getting involved in the first place. "It's not fair," she murmured, her own brow furrowed, fists clenched.

Ryuji pursed his lips, and after a long moment, he sighed, gathering her in his arms and pressing her against him. "It's not like I'm leaving the country or anything, you know." He let go of her and looked at her once more, his eyes boring into hers. "How about you tell me when you're ready? We're bound to see each other again."

Meiling felt a slight comfort at this, and she smiled slightly, suddenly feeling very, very young. "Okay."

Ryuji nodded, smiling back, and then he returned to packing his boxes.

Meiling stood and watched him for a few moments before she spoke. "Well, I'm terrible with goodbyes. I don't think I can see you off."

Ryuji seemed to have expected this, and he nodded, a look of resignation on his face. He stood up once more, and Meiling watched him carefully, hoping he'd come to her and hug her again, kiss her again, even if it was just on the forehead. It had been so comforting.

He looked around awkwardly for a moment, and then he waved, his lips curved upward. "Goodbye, Meiling."

"Bye... Ryuji." Hiding the disappointment in her voice, Meiling turned before she could look at him again and ran to her room.

Shutting the door behind her, she collapsed onto her bed, the tears finally overtaking her. In all her life, she had never felt such bitterness and regret.

_You say you're not moving out of the country, but you might as well be._

_

* * *

_

Meiling opened her eyes to darkness, confused and disoriented. She checked her clock, which read 5:40 PM, and she realized she'd fallen asleep after saying goodbye to Ryuji. Wiping the sleep out of her eyes, she stood up and wandered, fear rising up her stomach, out of her room and down the hall to Ryuji's. She tried to quell the stupid hope that he hadn't left after all, but that didn't stop the disappointment when she saw that his room was empty, save for a roll of packing tape lying in the corner.

He was gone.

Swallowing hard, Meiling leaned against the doorpost, her face contorted as she felt new tears rise up. She hadn't felt this empty since her mother had died. Perhaps it was because she hadn't realized exactly how much she had needed it, but now that her crutch was gone, she didn't know how she was supposed to ever get up again.

"Meiling?"

Meiling hastily recomposed her face and wiped her eyes before turning to her father, who stood at the end of the hallway, a curious expression on his face. She said nothing.

"It's time for dinner."

She nearly laughed at the absurdity, that her own father could see her in such a clearly distressed state and still have nothing to say to her. Ryuji had left in vain. Not feeling like putting up a fight, she followed him down the stairs and into the dining room.

Ignoring the glaringly empty seat that Ryuji had once occupied at the table, Meiling sat down in her usual seat, spooning soup into her mouth wordlessly. She could feel her father's eyes on her, and it nearly made her blind with fury. _Quit looking if you're not going to do something about it. I'm not some animal caged in a zoo for you to look at._

Then, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, and she looked up to see her father pouring her a glass of water—something he'd never done for her before. She gaped at him, soup spoon still mid-way to her mouth, and tried to register his expression, which seemed to be a hesitant mixture of pity, empathy, and sorrow. In a flash, it was gone, but the water was there in her glass—proof that it had happened.

_It worked. He knows. He cares._

_He cares._

"_You are intriguing and absolutely extraordinary. You hardly deserve to be like this all the time." _

Before she knew it, Meiling burst into tears, the soup spoon falling to the ground and a hand covering her mouth. Knowing her father wouldn't condone this kind of behavior, especially at the dinner table, she tried to stop herself, but it was uncontrollable. Anything she had attempted to hold back during the day was pouring out in torrents now.

She heard a chair scraping against the floor as her father stood up, and she couldn't even bring herself to care that he was walking out of the room—she felt silly, but she was overjoyed at the glass of water sitting before her. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up in surprise to see her father standing awkwardly, unable to look at her. But it was definitely his hand on her shoulder, and the sight only made her tears come more heavily.

Although he walked away after a few moments, Meiling sat in her dinner chair for a long time, gathering herself. By the time she was ready to go upstairs, her soup was cold. With a shaking hand, she drank out of the glass of water.

After taking all the dishes to the dishwasher, she watched the garden outside of the living room window for awhile. She wondered where Ryuji was. She imagined him with his mother. It still ached, the hole he'd left, but Meiling didn't feel quite as debilitated anymore. She knew it could only get better from here.

_Thank you._

* * *

Syaoran walked up to the school gates, mentally preparing himself to mentally prepare _Sakura_ once more. He knew how timid she was, and although he wished she would be braver and care a bit less about what other people would say, he knew that if he gave it time, she would grow out of it on her own. This is what he had told himself over and over the night before as he'd attempted to fall asleep, and just before he had finally drifted off, he had reached an epiphany of sorts—all he could do was wait patiently and help her get there, because he simply cared about her that much.

It had been a nice revelation, and it had left him feeling much better about the situation when he'd woken up the next morning. Grinning as he saw her facing the school building, her back towards him, he crept up behind her and grabbed her around the waist suddenly, making her squeal.

Sakura turned around quickly and smiled, giving him a quick hug. "Good morning!"

"'Morning," Syaoran responded. "I'm disappointed I didn't scare you more."

Sakura laughed. "You can't expect me to keep getting scared if you do that all the time. I'll come to expect it."

"That's true. Maybe it's time to change up my tactics," he joked. He glanced up at the school building. "Ready to go in?"

Sakura nodded, and they began to walk in through the gates together.

Syaoran paused when he felt Sakura's hand slip into his. "Sakura... We're walking into school. What are you doing?"

Sakura frowned. "You don't want to?"

"Well—I mean, of course I want to! But what about you?"

"What do you mean?"

Syaoran was baffled. "Aren't you scared?"

Sakura bit her lip for a moment, and then she shook her head. "No. I'm with you... That's all that matters. Whatever anyone else thinks won't change that. So there's no need to be scared... Right?"

Syaoran felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. He smiled at the hesitation in her voice. Clearly, he had not been the only one up sleepless at night because he'd been giving this some thought. It was a nice trade-off, he thought—somehow, without even discussing it, they'd come to meet halfway.

He squeezed her hand, smiling down at her, and then they continued to walk. "Right."

* * *

Ahhhhhh, it's DONE! I can't believe it! I want to cry a little, haha. I hope this was a satisfactory last chapter. In terms of Sakura and Syaoran, the most important stuff was probably in the previous chapter, but I felt that I had to wrap up what was left of Sakura's insecurity. It says something for how much they've grown, I think, when Syaoran is willing to wait and Sakura is willing to give up her timidity so that he won't have to. But I do know that most of the focus was not on them this chapter, but rather on Tomoyo and Eriol and more so on Meiling and Ryuji. I think I tied up the ends here, but I know I did it rather hastily. If it all seemed very sudden, I apologize. I tried to make it as subtle as possible. But Meiling and Ryuji _will_ eventually get a one-shot in which she does get to tell him all of those things she wanted to tell him, I think. I also know I didn't do much of Eriol and Tomoyo, but I promise you'll see them in the epilogue if you get around to reading it!

Wow, it's really been such a journey. I started this story when I was thirteen; I'm nineteen now. Like I said, it started out being something very different from the final product. Without you guys, I wouldn't have grown nearly as much as a writer, and every piece of encouragement, urge to update, or constructive criticism helped so much. Every single review meant something. I owe you all. I know I say that a lot, but I mean it. That said, there have been a few reviewers who have stuck around with me for a _very_ long time, and I wanted to give them an individual hello: **Kimura**, I think you have seriously been around for the entirety of this story's run. Your reviews were always so encouraging, and I actually started to look for them whenever I posted! Thank you for growing up with my writing—you seriously have no idea how much that kind of loyalty means to me. **DN Angel and Cardcaptor Sakura, chibiNeko192, AnimeObsessionFantasy, .Bitesx, rosedreamer101,**and **Yami Umi**, you've all been around forever as well! I always smiled when I saw your reviews. It was like reading letters from old friends. **BiskElle**, I can't believe it's been _years_ since we started talking to each other, and I love your reviews so much. They always make me squeal a little because they're so sweet, haha. **swallowingtears**, you have been such a great help through all of this, and you are always so encouraging. I wish I could really express to you how much I appreciate it. And to **stoic reviewer**, I'm responding here because I can't actually reply to you. Thank you _so_ much for your reviews. I've never felt so excited and humbled by a review before, and I'm so glad that I could provide a good read for you. And **thanks again to everyone a thousand times. **I'll be replying to all of your reviews from chapter eighteen as well! I love you all so much. Get ready for the epilogue soon!

**Also, with the epilogue of Fukai Negai, I'll be posting the first chapter of my new story, **_**Radio Star**_**. Please keep an eye out for it! **

Love, love, love,

boreum dal


	20. Epilogue

Fukai Negai- Deep Wish

Hi, everyone! As promised, here is the epilogue. Thanks again for accompanying me on the journey. I hope this is satisfactory!

**Epilogue**

Sakura made sure to close the door quietly as she headed out of her house and into the darkness; Touya would kill her if she managed to wake him up somehow, and then he'd go on one of his overprotective rants about how she shouldn't go out alone at night.

Walking down the driveway and turning the corner, she watched her breath fog up the air. Winter in Tomoeda was always a little strange for her; the memories it brought back made her stomach churn, but she could never figure out whether it was a good churning or a bad churning.

_Five years since we sat on this curb and he kissed me on the cheek. _Sakura smiled, remembering how big that had seemed to her.

She was twenty-one now, finishing her last year of college and visiting home for the holidays. Coming home was always a nostalgic and bittersweet experience; after moving to Tokyo for school and living a completely different life there, Tomoeda seemed too little and too sleepy for her to ever really settle in again. That said, she was always overjoyed to see her father and her brother and the high school friends she'd left behind.

She had yet to see _him_, however. She had not seen him since the last day before she moved to Tokyo for her first year of college.

_I wonder how you are._

Sakura and Syaoran had stayed together in a happy relationship for two years; both had done much growing together, and they had become each other's best friends, the people who had known each other best in the world. And in spite of Sakura's initial inhibitions, much of the student population had come to accept and embrace them as a pair. By the time they had celebrated their high school graduation, however, both knew that they were coming to the end of their road. Sakura was going to attend school in Tokyo, and Syaoran was going to school in Hong Kong. The distance alone was not a factor in the end of their relationship; but both had come to feel that they were so young, and there was much more that they needed to do on their own. Living so far apart would only make that harder, they thought. If there was any time to end it, it was then.

Thus, the breakup had been amicable... But that didn't mean it hadn't been painful.

"_Sakura..."_

"_I'm fine. Really," Sakura said, pulling the corners of her lips up into a smile. It had never been more difficult._

"_Please don't cry," Syaoran said softly, reaching out to wipe her tears away. _

_Sakura let out a sob at the sweet gesture._

_He looked off to the side. "Fuck." His hand falling back to his side, he clenched it into a fist and ran the other hand through his hair. "This is so hard. This is so hard... Why are we even doing this?" His voice took on a tone of desperation, his brown eyes meeting hers. "If we still love each other, then why can't we make it work?"_

"_It's not that we can't... I know we could. But you said it yourself, Syaoran. We have to grow up," Sakura sighed shakily, wiping more tears away from her eyes. _

_Syaoran closed his eyes, nodding. "I know. I just wish we didn't have to. Where did all the time go?"_

_Sakura leaned her head on his shoulder. "You told me once that time passes a lot more quickly if people enjoy themselves. These last two years were like seconds to me, but I think that's a good thing."_

_He looked over at her for a moment before kissing the top of her head. "Same for me."_

_They sat for awhile, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist, until Syaoran reluctantly looked at his watch. _

"_It's three in the morning... Your brother might send out a manhunt for me if I don't get you home," Syaoran said, his voice heavy._

_Sakura sat up and sighed, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She couldn't help but go back through their relationship in her head, and wondering how exactly she was supposed to figure out college without Syaoran around, she felt her eyes watering again. _

"_I don't want to go."_

"_Me, either." Syaoran's voice was hesitant. "You know... No one is saying we have to."_

_Sakura bit her lip, knowing full well that although they had made this decision on their own, they would have to follow through with it. Even if they decided not to break up after all and continue the relationship, it would be different simply because they'd already made the decision to separate at one point. They would both wonder forever what would have happened if they'd gone through with their decision. Syaoran knew this, too; and when their eyes met once more, both of them knew there was no going back, even if no one else was forcing this upon them. _

_Sakura flung herself into Syaoran's arms and sobbed into his chest. _

"_I love you, Sakura."_

"_I love you, too."_

Syaoran had left for Hong Kong two days later; both had agreed that it would not be a good idea for Sakura to see him off at the airport.

Their separation had been hard on both of them, Sakura knew; her first few months in college, she'd had a difficult time coping on her own, although Tomoyo—her roommate as of her first year—had helped her through much of the worst parts. Sakura and Syaoran had tried to stay in contact in the beginning, but they had eventually decided not to because it was too hard. After the passage of time, they'd said, they would resume being friends. And they held true to their words; after about a year, Syaoran had reached out to Sakura through a phone call, and as both had moved on with their lives, they were able to resume contact. But while they were friends, they never ended up being quite as close as Sakura had hoped they'd be; and while they had maintained contact, it hadn't been as frequent as Sakura had wanted it to be. She never let herself call him as often as she wanted to simply because she was worried that she would burden him. He had moved on; she did not want to give off the illusion that she hadn't.

Neither had ever mentioned meeting up with each other again. On her end, Sakura had been too scared that he might reject the idea; if he did, it would be a whole new form of heartbreak.

Sakura reached her destination and turned to face it, and a smile formed on her lips. Her high school looked the same as it always had. She laughed to herself when she thought about how foreboding it had seemed in her first few years.

She stiffened when she thought she heard a voice—deep, rough, quiet. She knew that voice. _It couldn't be... _Frantically, she looked around her, but she saw no one. She sighed and shook her head. She had to be crazy. She had been thinking so intently about Syaoran that now she was imagining he was here. _Maybe I shouldn't have come back here. Obviously, it's not doing good things to my mind._

Turning around to leave, she jumped and opened her mouth to scream when she ran straight into someone's chest.

An arm shot around her waist to steady her before she fell backwards, and a hand went to cover her mouth before she screamed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Sheesh, calm down," the same deep voice said, loud and clear now.

Sakura looked up as she was released, and her eyes went wide. Syaoran stood before her, older but with that familiar smirk on his face.

"I asked you a second ago what you were laughing about, but I guess you didn't hear me," Syaoran said. "How are you?"

Sakura was unable to speak. She was baffled. Had she somehow magically wished him here? How had this happened?

"Are you going to talk?" Syaoran raised an eyebrow.

He was real. _Holy shit. He's real._ Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out—immediately, she dropped her gaze to the ground.

Syaoran raised his eyebrows and stared for a moment before scoffing. "Still haven't broken that habit, I see."

Sakura bit her lip, and then she forced herself to glance back up at him. _He's real, he's real, he's real._ It was all she could do to gather herself and think of something to say in response.

"I, uh..." She found herself casting her eyes downward once more, and right before she stopped herself, she caught his hands in his pockets. "I see you've had some trouble breaking a habit yourself," she said as casually as he could, nodding to his pockets.

Syaoran stared at her, surprised, before he quickly pulled his hands behind his back. He looked off to the side for a long moment before chuckling. "It's good to see you."

Sakura bit back a smile. "You, too."

* * *

"You think they've run into each other yet?"

"I'm sure they have."

"Don't patronize me!"

"What? I really am sure!" Eriol laughed. He pushed his girlfriend on the swingset gently before rubbing his hands together. "Wanna go back to my place now? It's pretty cold."

Tomoyo looked around, taking in King Penguin Park. She'd missed it since she'd been away. It was funny how Tomoeda had become home to her, and going back to Tokyo for college had seemed like going away by the time her first year had rolled around. She was certain she owed much of that to the strong friendship she'd built with Sakura here as well as the relationship she'd maintained with Eriol for the last six years. Standing up, she entwined her arm with Eriol's to warm up as he led them to his car.

"You really think they've run into each other, then?" she asked once more, feeling anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

"I'm _positive_. Otherwise, I'd have gotten a call from him saying to hang out or something, I feel like."

"Hmm... Well, okay," Tomoyo said, trying to sound reassured.

Eriol laughed. "All these years and you're still so preoccupied with getting them together."

"I just want to know if there's still something there! Sakura never forgot about Syaoran, you know."

"He never forgot about her, either, really," Eriol said thoughtfully. He opened the car door for her before getting in the driver's side. "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

"So Tomoyo suggested visiting the school, huh?"

"Yeah... If Eriol told you the same thing, I guess they planned this," Sakura said, blushing. She wondered what had gone through Tomoyo's mind when she set this up.

"He must have. What a sneaky bastard," Syaoran said, but he laughed to himself.

"So, what have you been up to?" Sakura asked, wrapping her coat around her a little more tightly as they walked along the sidewalk.

"Just finishing college—you know how it goes. I've gotten into my top business school of choice, and I'll be helping my mother run the company for experience." Syaoran looked up and watched the sky. "Where to? I don't know many places open this late."

"That's awesome! I'm so glad you're doing well. Not that I'm surprised. And I don't really know. I don't know places open this late, either... At least, not in Tomoeda."

Syaoran smiled. "Remember when we couldn't find anywhere to eat after that party, so we just got takeout and went to my house and ate on the ballroom floor?"

Sakura nodded, laughing at the memory. "You were so adamant on not going to some open-late restaurant. Such a girl."

"I was not!" Syaoran protested, but his voice was playful. He paused before he looked over at her. "Would you wanna do that again?"

Sakura felt her heart jump at the words. "Uh... Wouldn't your mother be asleep?"

Syaoran shrugged. "Out of town, as usual."

"It's almost the holidays!"

"She'll be back before Christmas. This is the first year we're not going to the mountains, but I don't really mind," Syaoran said quietly, looking over at Sakura.

Sakura looked back at him for a moment, then quickly averted her gaze. Even in the darkness, she could feel the focus of his eyes on her. It made her nervous. The last time something like this had happened...

She could hear the words she'd said once before repeating in her head.

"_Syaoran, am I just being stupid here?"_

He spoke again, and the moment was gone. "So, how about it? I'm starving. I can give you a ride home afterwards if you want."

Sakura nodded. "That sounds nice."

* * *

Tomoyo squealed as she read a text on her phone. "Sakura's going to Syaoran's house to eat!"

Used to her abundance of enthusiasm, Eriol smiled as he lay beside her in his bed. "I told you."

Tomoyo grinned. "I remember how life-and-death everything was when we were younger. Remember how much it had rocked our worlds when they broke up?"

Eriol nodded. "I won't lie, I'd thought they'd last." He paused. "But what about us?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

Eriol turned to face her. "What did you think about us? Going to separate colleges, growing up... Do you think we did the right thing, staying together?"

"Oh, Eriol..." Tomoyo smiled. "Of course I do. We've been in separate schools for six years. If either of us hadn't wanted to commit, don't you think something would've happened by now? I don't know about you, but do you remember what a flake I was?"

Eriol laughed. "I do. That's reassuring, in an odd way."

Tomoyo leaned in and kissed Eriol before checking her phone again. "Sakura hasn't texted me any more... I'm dying to know what's going on."

"Is that really more interesting than what's going on here?" Eriol said in a mock-offended manner.

"Well, I guess I could use a bit of a distraction..." Tomoyo trailed off, smiling coyly.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

Tomoyo giggled as she felt Eriol wrap his arms around her waist and pull her over to him. At some points, it had been difficult to maintain her relationship with Eriol, who had gone to college all the way in England—but especially in moments like these, she recognized that she had never once regretted doing so.

* * *

"Your eating habits haven't changed at all," Sakura said casually as she followed Syaoran out to his car.

"Yeah, well, yours haven't, either! At least I don't eat like a bird," he teased. "Peck, peck, peck."

Sakura threw her head back and laughed. "I do not! I have never once been told that I eat like a bird."

"Well, let me be the first to tell you, then: you eat like a bird."

Both of them laughed as they got in the car, Sakura buckling her seat belt as Syaoran started the engine. They rode in a comfortable silence as Syaoran drove the familiar route to her house.

It had seemed like things had never changed—even the dynamic of the evening was familiar, as they had eaten on the ballroom floor for old times' sake. Syaoran driving Sakura home was so natural to her; his not having seen her in four years suddenly didn't seem to mean anything at all.

She wondered if he felt the same.

It was clear by their dinner conversation that Syaoran had grown gracefully into a mature young adult, capable of wise decisions and much intelligent thought. He had always been introspective, Sakura knew, but he had learned how to take that quality and apply it to everything he did, whether that was martial arts, which he continued to do to this day, or school, or his future plans. As for Sakura, she knew that Syaoran thought something similar of her, as he had told her—very casually—towards the end of dinner.

"You've grown a lot," he'd said with a smile. "It's nice to hear your views on life... It's refreshing."

Sakura had blushed and muttered a lame "back at you" before changing the subject.

This evening had been a strange turn back in time. Sakura wondered if it was a one-night thing; her heart ached at the thought of it, but she had come to expect it. She hated to admit to herself that she was coming to desire him, especially when she knew that he probably did not feel the same way. Sure, there had been the stranger moments where she couldn't tell what he was feeling when he looked at her, but they had passed so quickly that she'd wondered if she was imagining them.

"When are you going back to school?" Syaoran asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, in a couple of weeks, probably. What about you?" Sakura tried to sound nonchalant, but now that she'd thought about the possibility of meeting again, her heart was thumping awfully quickly.

"Same. Once the holidays are over, I have to head back to finish off the semester. I probably won't be back till May or so."

Sakura nodded. "Me, too."

There was a silence, and then, Syaoran spoke again, his voice uneven. "Look, Sakura, I..." He sighed, clearly frustrated, and he ran a hand through his hair as he watched the road. He clenched his jaw, and then it seemed that he gave up on attempting to speak again.

Sakura thought about urging him to continue, but she thought better of it and bit her lip. Her hands were folded in her lap.

The rest of the trip was silent.

When they reached Sakura's house, she didn't quite know how to say goodbye. After that awkward moment, it seemed almost inappropriate to hug him. It would be weird to shake his hand. She settled for a wave, although it left her feeling thoroughly unsatisfied.

"Bye, then."

"Yeah. Good seeing you," Syaoran said, inclining his head.

Feeling her stomach sinking, Sakura opened the door and turned to get out of the car.

"Damn it... Wait." A hand shot out to grab her wrist.

Sakura turned back around, pulled back into the seat of the car. "Syaoran, what—"

Syaoran let go of her wrist and placed both hands back on the steering wheel, looking conflicted and feeling crazy. Finally, he looked over at her, and he smiled a little at her curious expression. He felt strangely encouraged by it. Some things really wouldn't ever change, he thought.

"Do you want to do this again tomorrow?"

_End_

* * *

There it is! The ending to the ending, the official final chapter of this story. I know it wasn't quite as fluffy as you might have hoped it'd be, but I thought this ending was befitting for the course of their relationship! Sakura and Syaoran approached their relationship, their breakup, and their post-breakup friendship in a very healthy way, I think, after having started the relationship in a rather odd and unhealthy way (i.e. via bet). If you have any questions, you're more than welcome to leave them in a review or private message me! Thank you guys so much for everything. I think this was the first story I've ever been proud of to finish, and even so, I know there's so much more room to improve. I will definitely continue to try and do so! Love you guys. Please leave a review!

Final note—with this epilogue, I've also posted the first chapter of my new story, _Radio Star_. It's a bit different from this story, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Please give it a read/review if you have the time!

I love you all!

-boreum dal


End file.
